Of Demons and Angels
by Ladyhawke Legend
Summary: Archer and crew stumble upon a species involved in a civil war and find a relic of the Eugenics Wars. Is this woman humanity's future or the evils of its past? And what happens when she awakens and steals Archer's heart? New chapter added! Epilogue R&R!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Hello everyone. I just wanted to let you know that this is my first fanfic. Reviews are very much welcome, but please no flames. Please read and review and let me know what you think. This story has been a year in the making and has been something that I got into my head and couldn't get rid of until it was written. I am a big time fan of fanfiction writing, but this is the first time I have decided to join in the fray. I love Star Trek, especially Enterprise and I have tried to stick as close to the canon as possible. I may slip here and there, but I did my best.**

**Also, this story is meant to be long. It is like a novel. I am posting a few chapters at a time. It does contain some violence and language, and some romance, so I gave it a T rating. None of my friends would believe that I am a sappy romantic at heart, but I am, a little. This story takes place a few months after the events in the fourth season episode, "Terra Prime" and for now ignores the last episode of that season. You all know the one I mean. Later on I actually try to come up with a unique and creative way to help Trip out of that nasty situation. Hopefully some of you will approve.**

**I have to give a hug thanks to a wonderful beta reader, RadcliffePotter. She was so kind and helpful in helping me bring this story forward. Any mistakes that still exist are entirely the author's fault. Also, I want to thank Sclittle. She has been a real source of encouragement. Milk and cookies for you guys!!!!!**

**This prologue deals with a character from Star Trek: TOS and Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. I have always loved the character of Khan and thought that it would be fun to work him into this story. The chapters that follow get into Archer and crew and their adventure. The prologue is just setting up some background information. The real, hardcore story starts with Chapter 1.**

**Read and enjoy!!!!! Plus, review. Must have feedback to gain the courage and desire to post more. Thanks!!**

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**Prologue**

She had betrayed Khan. As she surveyed the destruction of his last stronghold, she let out a shaky breath. The wounds she had received during the battle for control of his kingdom were already healing. She was special that way. A harsh, bitter laugh escaped her throat at that thought. She was certainly different than most of humanity, that was for certain. She was McKenna McKnight, transgenic super soldier. She was the only one who had been able to pull the terrible tyrant, Khan Noonian Singh, from power and no one would ever know about it – at least not publicly. Her only regret was that she had let him escape and had not ended his miserable life.

McKenna, or Mac, as the World Government Coalition (WGC) liked to call her, cursed herself for her moment of weakness. Khan had a magnetic personality, and even though he stood for everything Mac hated, he could still be very persuasive. Many of the words he spoke to her were true. Humanity would never allow people like themselves to have any freedom - unless they took it for themselves. Ordinary humans felt threatened by their very existence; even though it was ordinary humans that had created them in the first place. Working behind the scenes, controlling puppet governments, and pursuing their superior agenda for ruling the world was what they were destined to do, until enough of the inferior human population could be wiped out and destroyed. Then, the "supermen" could reign over the Earth with great glory and true power.

Khan was a product of specific and selective genetic breeding and engineering. He possessed five times the strength of a regular human male and his intelligence was double that of normal humans. Physically, his heart pumped more efficiently and his lung capacity was fifty percent better than normal, making him a superior human specimen. He even had a higher level of hearing than most normal humans. He was a master of manipulation and military strategy. He knew exactly what people wanted to hear and how to convince them why his ambitions were the correct ones to follow. Khan could get inside others' desires and twist them to unite people to his cause. In short, he was evil.

Mac was different from Khan and others like him created during the Eugenic Wars, although she too was a product of genetic engineering. Her kind of design was in competition with those who created people like Khan. Whereas he was a pure human construct, Mac was a hybrid construct. One could call Mac a Chimera, named after the old Greek myth. Mac's genetic makeup consisted of DNA from at least thirty different humans. Scientists had also mixed in some animal DNA. The human DNA came from the best and brightest of the twentieth century: people like Albert Einstein, Neil Armstrong, and Thomas Edison. Some of the other people were athletes, like Jesse Owens and Jim Thorpe.

The Corporation of Scientists, who never existed on paper, also gave her DNA from predatory animals, such as the leopard, wolf, and hawk. These DNA contributions gave her the superhuman speed and agility that allowed her to be a one-woman army.

Her strength was comparable to Khan's, but her ability to leap, climb, see, hear, smell, and avoid bullets was far superior to Khan and his people. Mac could focus her eyes to see prey from a large distance away, as if it was right in front of her. Her sense of smell was almost as acute as a dog's. She could identify the ethnic background and gender of a person by just their scent. Mac also had the ability to drop from astonishing heights without an impact injury. She could almost see the movements an opponent was going to make before they made them. Last, but not least, Mac was able to process multiple levels of information input. She could integrate the data she received from up to ten different sources, her mind sorting out what was relevant and what wasn't. With this ability she was able to learn any skill very quickly and become any kind of person she wanted to be. She also had a photographic memory. Once Mac saw or learned something, she never forgot it. She had been trained to be the perfect soldier; to follow orders without question, to kill without hesitation, to fight until the death, and to out-think her enemy.

Because of all the mucking around those biologists, chemists, and other medical doctors were doing, there were some negative side effects. With Khan and his people, the superior intellect and physical prowess, led to more aggression and a thirst for power. With Mac and her fellow transgenics, the changed genetics lead to homicidal mania and violent butchery. Mac was the last of her kind. All the other transgenics had to be put down and completely annihilated. Out of the five hundred created, only one was left. They all seemed to revert to the most primal of urges and desires. They were designed to be the perfect killing machines, predators on two legs, and that's exactly what they became. They seemed to lose all reason, even though superior intelligence was supposed to be part of their genome. The animal instincts drowned out the rational human thinking process. The results were a bloody mess. Needless to say, the Manticore project was scrapped, with the exception of Mac, while the Eugenics creations of Khan and his kind were more heavily funded and pursued.

For some unknown reason, Mac did not share their fate. She held on to her humanity by conscious choice. Every day she had to fight the deep, dark, primal forces that threaten to spill over into her consciousness and overtake it. She had found meditation practices that helped her suppress her animalistic nature, but it was always with her, even if it was buried deep inside of her. She learned to cage her beast, her Chimera, as she called it, but the fear was also there that it would escape its carefully constructed prison. Somehow, some mysterious force had given Mac a soul, and a good one at that. She truly wanted to serve and protect humanity, not dominate and rule over it. This transgenic creation wanted to be a protector, not a predator, and some secret global agency had decided she would be useful to them in that regard.

One other special feature McKenna McKnight had over the Eugenics creations and her own transgenic brothers and sisters was her ability to heal almost any injury at a highly accelerated rate. Once, in a training session at the Corporation's clandestine headquarters, she was exposed to a lethal virus. The virus had been developed to regenerate dead cells and make them live again; a handy invention for the medical profession and the military. Unfortunately, the virus killed its host's cells before it regenerated them. This created mindless zombies with an appetite for human flesh. That development allowed the virus to perpetuate itself. When Mac was exposed to the virus everyone thought that was the end of her. However, her unique genetic mixture saved her. Instead of the virus working itself on her cells and damaging her DNA, her DNA attacked the virus and rewrote its genetic code to serve her body. It gave her cells and tissues the ability to regenerate themselves whenever her body perceived an injury to itself, and gave her a stronger immunity to most diseases.

Sometimes Mac's hard won control did slip, and her darker side took over. Mac had wiped out whole battalions of enemy forces when this happened, and more than a few civilians. That was why the WGC, a global version of IMF force created by the American CIA or the MI-6 force created by the British, held profound reservations about her continued contribution to the fight against the Eugenics tyrants. Mac held these reservations against herself too. It took everything she had not to lose control of herself. It was a battle she feared she would one day lose. She figured it was just a matter of time before she gave into the monster inside her, and then hell would really come down on Earth.

Before Mac had accepted the assignment to defeat Khan once and for all, and free a fourth of the Earth's population from a cruel and merciless dictator, that most of the world didn't realize existed, she made the WGC promise that they would terminate her life. She had fought the good fight, had saved humanity from themselves, and now she could rest in peace. It would be best for everyone; at least, that's what she kept telling herself. The WGC had agreed to her demands and assured their agent that she would be "retired" when she completed her mission. How she would be "retired" had never been discussed.

The wind was beginning to pick up, blowing Mac's long, dark hair all around her. The smell of death and fire was everywhere. It both sickened and exhilarated her.

Khan was defeated, but he was not dead. He was still out there somewhere. He was a wanted fugitive now, and Mac felt certain that he would never rise to his former glory again. She found herself wondering where he would go, what he would do. The genetic super solider pushed these thoughts away. She had seduced him and let him seduce her. Her darker nature enjoyed the thrill of power and control she had had with him. Then she had betrayed him and led the WGC forces down upon him. She had even turned some of his most loyal followers against him, weakening his position before the final assault.

The hum of an engine could be heard in the distance. Mac knew instantly that it was a Coalition jeep. They were coming for her. She was ready, ready to finally have peace in her life. She could hear the rumble of Coalition trucks behind the jeep. As the vehicles crested the dune, she felt something was wrong. Without warning she felt the dart penetrate the skin of her neck. Whoever had made that shot must have been a keen marksman.

Mac pulled the dart from her neck, only to feel another one pierce her thigh. This was foolish; darts didn't have any effect on her. Her virus-enhanced blood neutralized whatever chemical was in them. Why would the Coalition be shooting darts at her? Surely, blowing her to bits that couldn't regenerate would be much more effective. Another dart hit her shoulder. Soon many more darts found their way into her body. As she backed away from the approaching vehicles, she actually felt dizzy. What was going on?

The military transports stopped several meters from her. Ten, blue and black clad soldiers hopped down and out from the back of a large army truck. They all held dart guns in their hands, pointed towards Mac. Whatever chemical was in these darts was definitely affecting her. Her vision was blurring and sounds warbled, loud then soft. She felt her knees give way and she fell to the ground. She tried desperately to rise again, but received another volley of darts for her effort. Black began to close in around her. The Coalition had found something to knock her out with. Were they killing her or just rendering her unconscious? Mac wasn't sure. She prayed it was the former.

"Have you subdued her, Major?" a distant male voice asked.

"Not quite," answered another male voice. "She sure is a tough one."

"You have no idea," the first voice said.

This was the last thing Mac could register. Her body was shutting down. It would not respond to any command her brain gave. The black spread across her vision and oblivion came soon after it.

TBC


	2. Chapter 1

**Diclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off this. I am doing it for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Here is the start of the main story involving Archer and crew. In the next few chapters the connection between Archer and crew and my original character in the prologue will come to light.**

**Please read and review!!!**

**Chapter 1**

_**Captain's Starlog: September 18, 2155**_

_After a long and overdue shore leave the crew is ready again to continue our mission of exploration. It seems that there have been many interruptions to this mission, so many problems to work out back on Earth. I, for one, will be glad to get back to our mission. That's what starships were designed for, exploring and discovering, not solving global disputes. Right now, we are approaching a new star system, a star system surprisingly not in the Vulcan database. This should be interesting. How the Vulcans missed an entire star system, is even more interesting._

Indeed, that was the question on many of the minds of the crew of the _NX-01 Starship Enterprise. _How did the Vulcans, known for their thoroughness and careful study of science, not know about this star system? Commander T'Pol, the lone Vulcan on a ship full of humans, was digging for an explanation, as she sat at her science station on the bridge of the _Enterprise._ "It is quite possible the Vulcan High Command has knowledge of this star system Captain, but for logical reasons of their own, they have chosen not to record it in the database."

Captain Jonathan Archer turned to face his science officer with an amused expression on his handsome face. "And why, Commander, would the Vulcan High Command not record something as important as a star system?"

T'Pol hesitated before she answered. She showed no irritation, as irritation was a useless emotion, which Vulcans did not engage in. "There are two possibilities. One, the High Command saw nothing of value in the star system ---."

"Which is typical," this came from chief engineer, Commander Charles Tucker III, Trip to his friends.

Captain Archer tried not to smile. He knew Trip was purposely trying to bug T'Pol, not out of spite, but to tease. It was true in the past that Vulcan-Human relations could sometimes be strained, because the Vulcans had hindered more than helped humans in achieving space travel for nearly a century now. Vulcans had the tendency to want to dictate how and what their human allies explored, and humans had the tendency to do things their own way, leading to many heated debates and painful misunderstandings. But T'Pol had become family to this crew. In fact she was the first Vulcan to be an official member of Starfleet.

T'Pol merely raised a slender eyebrow at the commander's remark and continued on with her hypothesis. "Or the High Command did not want information about this star system known."

That caught Archer's attention. "Are you saying that the Vulcan High Command may have purposely left out information about this system, because they didn't want to share it with other species?" He couldn't help but sound a little bitter. It had taken Captain Archer a long time to overcome his resentment of Vulcans, and this situation didn't help in that process.

"Yes," came T'Pol's reply.

Archer tried not to gape at her. Trip didn't hide his feelings. He was scowling. "Why in the world would they do that?" he asked. "I mean, I know Vulcans are a little secretive and uppity about their technology, but would they really not let other species know about a star system?" Trip's southern, Pensacola drawl was strong.

"Not all other species, just humans, in this case," T'Pol stated matter-of-factly.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed almost fell out of his seat, as he sat at his tactical station on the bridge. "You've got to be joking, right?" His British accent flared along with his anger.

T'Pol merely looked at him. "Vulcans do not joke. The High Command would not keep this information from your people lightly."

Archer tried to see past the anger that was slowly building in his gut. "Then why would they?" he asked, his voice low.

"I will endeavor to find out Captain," she replied and with that said, T'Pol began to press a series of controls, transitioning into her research mode, clearly ending her side of the conversation.

The Captain, feeling a little miffed, but confident in T'Pol's abilities to find an answer, decided that caution might be a wiser, more logical course of action. "Mr. Mayweather, slow her to impulse, and let's take our time in approaching any planets in this system. The Vulcans may have a damn good reason for not wanting us here."

If the helmsman, Ensign Travis Mayweather, was surprised by the Captain going along with a Vulcan precaution, he did not show it as he complied with his captain's orders. The graceful starship slipped out of warp and slowed to impulse power. It was a smooth and easy transition, as Mayweather was a competent pilot.

After a few moments of silence, watching his crew efficiently performing their duties, the Captain spoke. "Hoshi, are you picking up any subspace transmissions coming from that system?" He directed the question to his communications officer, Ensign Hoshi Sato.

Hoshi turned toward her captain, a white com piece, looking like an old-fashioned hearing aid, attached to her right ear. She was sitting at her com station, located a little in front of T'Pol's science station. "We aren't in range yet to pick up any transmissions, Captain."

"Let me know the moment you hear anything," Archer replied.

"Yes sir, will do," Hoshi said as she turned back to her control board.

The Captain drummed his fingers impatiently on one of his chair's armrests. This was the part about exploring that bothered him, the waiting to see what happened next. He liked to be in the thick of things. Normally, he would have totally disregarded the Vulcans' precaution and gone charging right up to the nearest planet and tried to see who was home, but four and a half years of space travel had taught him that patience really could be a virtue, plus a strong safety net for his crew. They had encountered many hostile species out here, and he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances with his crew's lives. He had done that enough times to fill a ship the size of _Enterprise_. Experience had been a harsh teacher, but the lessons had been learned.

Thirty minutes later, the Captain couldn't take it any longer. "I'll be in my ready room, looking through the Vulcan database myself." With that said, he stood and quickly strode to a door on his right, just past Lieutenant Reed's tactical station.

Trip couldn't help but smile at his friend. He knew Jonathan Archer was chomping at the bit to find out what was out here in this part of the galaxy, and it was killing him to wait for more information. He admired the fact that his captain was waiting for more information, instead of diving in without looking. Archer had come a long way since they had begun traveling the cosmos. Trip decided that he would go back down to his beloved Engineering and supervise the repairs, modifications, and other daily functions of the guts of the starship.

As he turned to leave, he glanced at T'Pol. She was busy at the com station with Hoshi, probably talking with someone in the Vulcan government, trying to get the knowledge the Captain was seeking. He was still taken in by her elf-like beauty. She had soft, delicate features, short brown hair, nicely pointed ears, and light brown eyes, with hints of green in them. He knew he wasn't over her, even though she had continually pushed him away. Through the unusual bond they shared, he understood she would eventually come back to him, that she cared deeply for him. She just needed time, and he needed patience as badly as Archer did.

T'Pol sensing eyes upon her, turned just as Trip walked into the turbolift and the doors closed, hiding him from sight. Charles Tucker was one of the most confusing humans she had ever met, but she had developed a deep affection for him. She had a hard time sorting out her feelings for him, as Vulcans tended to dismiss and bury their emotions, so that logic and reason could guide their actions. T'Pol had finally admitted to herself and to Trip that she did love him, but she needed to figure out how to deal with that revelation. He was kindly giving her the time to work it all out. She just hoped she would.

The science officer turned her attention back to Hoshi. "Has Chief Minister T'Pau answered our transmission yet?" she asked the com officer.

"I think it will take at least another hour to reach our nearest satellite transmitter," Hoshi informed her.

"Of course, thank you, Ensign," T'Pol replied a little absently, her mind still on the commander.

Hoshi smiled knowing what was distracting the Vulcan woman. "I'll let you know when I get a re---," Hoshi broke off abruptly. She was getting numerous transmission signals through her earpiece.

"What is it Ensign?" T'Pol asked with a look of concern on her face.

"I'm picking up multiple transmissions from the system we are approaching," Hoshi said, still concentrating on listening to the signals in her earpiece.

"Multiple transmissions?" T'Pol questioned.

"Yes. I count at least four different frequencies being used. It sounds like four different languages too, or maybe they're different dialects of the same language," Hoshi became absorbed in what she was hearing, her fingers flying across her console. She was engaging the Universal Translator and setting up to record what she was receiving. "It may take a few minutes for the UT to kick in. It needs to hear several key language components to be able to translate into English."

T'Pol thought for a moment. Multiple transmissions could mean anything. It could mean several cultures occupied the system and they broadcast to one another using different frequencies, or it could mean there was a war going on, and the multiple broadcasts were orders traveling back and forth between fleets of ships or troops on the ground. For some reason T'Pol believed it might be the later. She knew of a system of planets so embroiled in a civil war that they tended to drag other species into it, willingly or not. That was why her colleagues on Vulcan would have erased it from the humans' version of the database.

T'Pol continued her line of reasoning. The Vulcan High Command knowing that humans, especially Captain Archer, had the reputation for wanting to help and wanting to end conflict, would become entangled in this system's civil war. Humans would be forced to choose sides, and if they offered any advantage to one side or the other, they would be exploited. T'Pol searched her memory carefully for the name of the system or for any of the parties involved in fighting each other. She remembered the Vulcans who had made first contact had been deceived into believing that the war was at an end and they would be of help in negotiating the peace accords. In reality, the Vorlorens wanted to steal Vulcan technology to give them the edge to defeat their enemies. She had finally recalled the species' name.

"We have two unknown spacecraft approaching from the edge of the system," Lieutenant Reed informed the bridge crew. "I think we need Captain Archer out here."

T'Pol agreed. "T'Pol to Archer," she spoke into the com system of the ship.

"Archer here," came the quick reply.

"Lieutenant Reed is detecting two unidentified ships approaching our position, and Ensign Sato is picking up multiple transmission signals from within the system," T'Pol was to the point.

"On my way," Archer told her. Seconds later he was beside her on the bridge looking expectantly at Hoshi. "Report, Ensign."

Hoshi answered as she worked at her console. "The Universal Translator is finally up and running. I am starting to understand what the transmissions are all about. It appears that a large space battle is going on above the seventh planet in the system. Two major fleets are involved and there are a lot of causalities. It seems there are fighter units and larger battleships engaged in the battle. The transmissions are orders back and forth between squadrons of fighters and the bigger battleships."

"What are sensors showing us, Lieutenant?" the Captain turned his attention to his tactical officer.

Reed took a moment to read the information appearing on his screens. "Long-range sensors can confirm a majority of what Hoshi has just told us. There does appear to be a considerably large firefight going on out there, sir. The weapons' fire readings are numerous. The sensors are picking up four to five different ship designs. On short-range sensors, I'm detecting two of the fighter class ships approaching our position. It will be approximately twelve minutes until they're in communications range," Reed reported.

Captain Archer took all of this in and weighed his actions carefully. He was beginning to see why the Vulcans had chosen not to include this star system in the database. It was a hot bed of trouble. T'Pol's voice broke into his thoughts. "Captain, I cannot confirm my suspicions yet, but I believe this is the Vorloren System. It is a highly volatile territory engaged in a centuries old civil war."

"And you think this is why it isn't in the Vulcan database?" Archer didn't beat around the bush.

"Indeed, Captain," was T'Pol's answer.

"But why wouldn't your people put at least some reference to it in the database, like a warning to stay away?" The Captain already knew the answer to his question, but he asked it anyway.

T'Pol paused before she spoke. She knew the Captain wouldn't like her answer. "The Vulcan High Command knew of your species tendencies to want to become involved to end the conflict. They did not want you to entangle yourself in the fighting and make the situation worse."

Archer felt his jaw twitch. "They automatically thought we would make it worse?" His voice had a hard edge to it.

T'Pol knew she had to choose her next words carefully. "They made this assumption based on their own experience with the Vorlorens. It seems they convinced my people to help them negotiate a peace, but their true intentions were to acquire Vulcan technology by any means they could. The High Command learned through a bitter and painful experience that this species will do anything to have an advantage over one another. The Vorlorens have been able to keep their war going for an extended period of time because they have become adept at using other species to either do their fighting for them, or at using the various technologies that they acquire."

Archer digested T'Pol's words. "In other words, the Vulcans don't want us making the same mistake they did." This was more a statement than a question.

"Correct, Captain," T'Pol said as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"The fighter ships are in communications range now, Captain, and they are hailing us," interrupted Hoshi.

The Captain took a deep breath and said, "Let's hear what they have to say." T'Pol gave him an incredulous look. "They know we're here. We can't just duck and run." T'Pol still looked deeply troubled by his decision.

Hoshi complied with her captain's orders and put the incoming communication on the ship's speakers. "Sorry, Captain, no visual yet," she apologized.

"That's all right, Ensign," Archer then turned his attention to the voice on the speaker.

There was static for a second, then a low, male voice came through, in English, thanks to the UT. "Unidentified spaceship, identify yourself immediately or we will fire upon your vessel."

"Friendly bunch aren't they?" muttered Reed sarcastically. "They pose no threat to _Enterprise_, Captain. The weapons on those fighters would barely give us a scratch."

"Good, to know," the Captain responded. "I think I'll talk to them, before we need to worry about firing on them." He smiled at Reed as he said it. The Lieutenant just shrugged his shoulders and nodded his reply.

Archer motioned to Hoshi to open a com channel to the other ships. "This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Earth starship _Enterprise. _Who might you be?"

There was more static, then came the low, male voice again. "I am Lieutenant Gormance of the Vorloren Space Command. You are trespassing."

Captain Archer raised his eyebrows at the last comment. "We didn't know that any one had claim on this area of space. We apologize and we mean no disrespect. Is there any chance we could talk to your commanding officer?" Archer tried to be polite.

"What is your purpose here?" the response was gruff.

Again, Archer raised his eyebrows at the hostility. "We are peaceful explorers. We just want to meet your people." The Captain tried to make it simple.

"You will hold this position, until we contact you again." Then the voice was gone.

"They weren't very nice," Hoshi couldn't help but say.

"They're just being cautious," Travis Mayweather finally piped up.

"That's probably true, Travis," the Captain said. "We can wait a few more minutes to find out what is going on."

T'Pol could stand it no longer. "Captain, I must advise that we leave this system immediately. You cannot let your curiosity overrule your reason."

"Your advice is so noted, Commander," the Captain had made his decision. They were staying.

T'Pol was not about to let it rest. "Captain, may I speak to you in your ready room?"

Archer was about to say no, when he was cut short by Hoshi. "They are hailing us again, Captain."

"Go ahead, Hoshi," he told her.

The static came back and so did the low, male voice. "Director Romdel will speak with you. You will follow us to his battle cruiser and await further instructions."

"Lead the way," the Captain answered the order. "Follow them slowly and at a good distance Travis."

"Aye sir." Mayweather guided the _Enterprise _behind the Vorloren fighters and followed the path they led to the battle cruiser.

T'Pol was beside herself, if a Vulcan could feel that way. She couldn't believe the Captain, after all this time, was acting so recklessly. Just a short while ago, he seemed to be acting so logical. She knew it was too good to be true. She jumped when she heard Archer call her name. "T'Pol, my ready room, now."

She quickly followed him away from the staring eyes of the crew. This was suddenly beginning to feel a lot like their first few months out of space dock. The Captain, and the then Sub-Commander, were constantly at odds with each other. When they entered the Captain's ready room and the door shut, he turned on her. "Something on your mind?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" T'Pol met his angry glare.

"Of course," he said.

"I thought you had learned from all the past experiences, not to get involved in other species' political affairs. You are letting your emotions run away with you again. Are you willing to risk the lives of this crew, simply to satisfy your curiosity? I was beginning to think better of your species because of what you have learned from being out here. You have helped me see past my misconceptions of humans and I thought I had done the same for you and my people," T'Pol spoke without raising her voice. She was calm and unemotional, at least on the outside.

"Are you through?" Archer asked. Silence greeted his question. "Good. I am not doing this merely to satisfy my curiosity, as you so nicely put it. I am actually well aware of the situation at hand, Commander. Admiral Gardner has asked that we investigate what is really going on in this system. He seems to think that the Suliban and their benefactor from the future may have some stake in this civil war. We need to inform ourselves to know what the next step needs to be."

T'Pol was speechless. She didn't know what to say. "Only I and Reed know about why we are really here. The rest of the crew is to believe it is business as usual. We need to make it look like we just stumbled upon this system by accident. We don't want to tip off any of our enemies." Archer's whole demeanorhad softened.

"And you didn't inform me because---," T'Pol began, but Archer cut her off.

"Because we needed to seem as believable as possible, especially in front of the crew," the Captain stepped closer to her. "Admiral Gardner is not sure everyone abroad can be trusted. Just like Daniels planted himself among the crew, so could've another temporal agent. I _am_ sorry if I offended you out there. Now that you know, are you willing to go along with the ruse?"

T'Pol, relieved that the Captain was confiding in her again and not going off the emotional deep end, readily agreed. "Of course. I understand. You could have trusted me before, however."

"It's not that I didn't trust you," Archer said and smiled at her. "I didn't trust your acting abilities."

T'Pol knew he was trying to joke with her, but she was still hurt, which was very unVulcan of her. "I'll just have to prove your opinion of my abilities wrong." With that said, she left the ready room. Archer shook his head and returned to the bridge a few moments after her. He tried to look angry as he entered the bridge. He almost imperceptibility nodded to Reed, letting him know that he had explained the mission to T'Pol. Reed scratched his nose in response. Archer had to force himself not to laugh. This cloak and dagger stuff was for the birds.

"The Vorlorens are hailing us again, sir," Hoshi's voice broke the silence.

"Put them through," the Captain said as he waited to hear the low, male voice again.

"We have a visual this time," Hoshi sounded enthusiastic at this opportunity to see a new species.

The view screen at the front of the bridge flickered to life. The Spartan look of a military style ship's bridge came into view. Dark metal and a cramped space surrounded a bridge crew of eight men; two at navigation consoles, three at weapons stations, two at communications consoles, and one in a center command chair. The man in the command chair appeared to be an older gentleman with white hair and a white moustache. He seemed very human in appearance, except he was very pale. His skin almost seemed translucent, and his eyes had white irises with black dots for pupils. The part of the eye that was normally the white part, for humans, was black. The rest of the bridge crew appeared younger, with differing colors of hair from dark brown to almost blond. All were extremely pale and had the white eyes. They wore gray, two-piece uniforms with black embroidery. The _Enterprise _crew couldn't tell what rank the black lines and shiny buttons were supposed to portray, but they looked impressive. All in all, the style was very heavily militaristic, almost imperial in nature.

"I am Director Milo Romdel, one of the Vorloren Space Command's chief commanders. It is an honor to meet _the_ _Captain Archer_, from the planet Earth," the man's voice was strong and confident, if not a little excited.

Archer was taken aback. This alien had heard of him? "I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_. You know of me and my people?"

"Your humility only serves to strengthen and confirm your reputation," Romdel said.

"My reputation?" The Captain was very worried now.

Romdel smiled, showing a brilliantly white smile with perfectly straight teeth. "Yes, you are the great Xindi slayer, the destroyer of the Sphere Builders, enemies to the Cabal of the Suliban, defeater of the Augments, scourge of the Klingon Empire, fighter against the injustice of Orion slavery, uniter of Andorians and Tellerites, truth bringer to the Vulcans ---"

Captain Archer had heard enough. "I think some one has been telling you tall tales about me." The Captain was flushing a nice, bright shade of red. T'Pol was genuinely horrified. How did these people know so much about the Captain, and human relations with other species?

Romdel was not to be discouraged. "Oh, I doubt that Captain. My people have a network of spies to rival any in the galaxy. We have been following human progression for sometime now, and we have been impatiently awaiting the day when we could meet you."

"I am honored Director Romdel, but I am not someone who should be put up on such a high pedestal," The Captain didn't know what else to say. This certainly was not the reception he imagined receiving.

"Again, your modest streak, proves what our intelligence has been telling us," Romdel had stood and was now close to his view screen. "This is the perfect time for you to find your way to us too. We have something I think you will find very valuable to your people, and worth trading with us for." Romdel was like a little child on Christmas morning when he relayed this information to the Captain.

Archer felt like things were moving way too fast and not in the direction he wanted. "You have something valuable to the people of Earth?" The Captain couldn't imagine what it could be.

"Yes, yes, but I don't want to discuss it with you over an insecure channel. Our enemies might overhear and try and use it against us," Romdel had grown serious again. "I will give you coordinates for a safe and secure place to meet, and I can show you what this marvelous treasure is in person. That way you should be more willing to trust what we have to say."

"Can I bring some members of my crew with me?" The Captain did not like the sound of this, but he would play along for the moment.

"Oh, I was hoping you would say that!" Romdel almost seemed like he was going to jump up and down in pure joy. "Please bring your Chief Engineer, Commander Tucker, your ship's physician, Doctor Phlox, and your Communications Officer, Ensign Sato."

The fact that Romdel knew his senior officers by name and rank, greatly disturbed Archer. He frowned. Romdel caught this, but misinterpreted its meaning. "Oh, I am sorry, I forgot about Lieutenant Reed, your Tactical Officer, and Ensign Mayweather, your Helmsman. They would be greatly welcomed too."

Archer realized Romdel had failed to invite T'Pol to this little get-together. She was not only his science officer, but his first officer, as well, second-in-command of _Enterprise_. "What about my Science Officer, Commander T'Pol?" The Captain decided to ask the question bluntly.

Romdel seemed to falter a bit. He spoke hesitantly. "Captain Archer, I hope you don't take this as a sign of disrespect, but my people don't think very highly of the Vulcans. We have had difficult relations with them in the past, and I am afraid their influence on our meeting would be detrimental to any progress we could make together."

Jonathan Archer looked at T'Pol, pleading with her to understand what he was going to say next. He blinked as he saw her nod an ascent. "Actually, you might have a point there, Director. My science officer and I have not been seeing eye-to-eye about exploring this system. It seems her people didn't want us to know about you. They left your existence out of the database they gave to us. It is supposed to contain information about all the places they have studied and recorded, but it doesn't. It appears that they have done this very deliberately. It was by mere chance that we found you. Needless to say this has put me in a foul mood. I don't like being lied to." Archer added the last bit as a warning to Romdel.

"I completely understand your frustration with the Vulcans, Captain," Romdel smiled weakly. "We know that they have held your species back for a century now. If it weren't for your courage and daring defiance, you wouldn't be out here now, among the stars. Even, after you so gallantly opened their eyes to how their government had corrupted Surak's teachings, they still treat you like small children. You must come down and meet us. We have so much to gain from each other."

"Give us the coordinates, and we will gladly meet with you," Archer said through a faked smile.

T'Pol spoke up. "Captain, I do not think this is a wise decision. Maybe you should---."

The Captain cut her off. "Your concern has already been noted, Commander. Do not question me again."

The entire bridge held their breath. This was indeed too eerily like the first few months of their space flight. T'Pol was again challenging the Captain, and he was not backing down. The bridge crew also could not believe how this new species of people knew so much about humans. They understood T'Pol's desire for caution and the Captain's resentment for being lied to again by the Vulcans. They looked at one another in shock and awe. This was most definitely an interesting star system after all.

TBC


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing it for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Please read and review!!!**

****

**Chapter 2**

The coordinates that Romdel gave Captain Archer, led to a planet in the far reaches of the planetary system. The planet turned out to be a small, forested moon in orbit around a large, red, gas giant. It took _Enterprise _a number of hours to travel to its location. Romdel had provided a course that led them through a dense nebula that, Romdel claimed, would mask their presence from the Vorloren's enemies, the Lasiterians. _Enterprise _had to navigate on one-quarter impulse power through the nebula. Traveling through the nebula also allowed them to bypass the major space battle going on deep in the system.

This long, round about journey had given Archer time to brief his senior staff on the true nature of their mission. Each member of his senior staff, he trusted, both with his life and with the life of the entire crew. He knew from experience and from his gut instincts that none of them were temporal agents, or in league with any temporal agents. It was the rest of the crew the Captain struggled with. He felt they were all good people, but he had been fooled by Daniels, who had posed as a mere ship's steward. The senior staff all agreed to go along with Archer's original plan and continue to pretend that the Vulcans had purposely hidden the Vorlorens and their civil war from the people of Earth. They would go meet with Romdel and others to get a feel for what was going on behind the scenes of the so-called "war" they were having.

T'Pol felt better when she learned that only the Captain and Lieutenant Reed had known about the reality of the situation. The Captain had left all other members of the senior staff in the dark too. He was not singling her out. These thoughts, T'Pol chided herself, were all very illogical for a Vulcan, but she had them all the same. Maybe her bond with Trip was allowing her to tap into her emotions on a more conscious level than she was used to, or maybe she still was having trouble dealing with emotions brought to the surface by her brief Trellium addiction. Either way, T'Pol didn't like feeling emotions so strongly. It just wasn't natural.

The six who had been invited down to the forest moon were now preparing to leave the ship in one of the _Enterprise's _shuttlepods. The transporter was working much more reliably and efficiently lately, but most of the crew still preferred the shuttlepod. It was cramped with six inside the small cabin, but workable. "What do you think these blokes are playing at, Captain?" Reed asked as he piloted the shuttlepod out of the hangar bay and into the space beyond.

"I wish I knew," Archer replied honestly. "It bothers me that they know so much about me - about us," he corrected himself.

"And that they are making you out to be Superman," Trip said with a playful smile.

Archer laughed at his friend's attempt to lighten the mood. "Yes, one can only handle so much intense flattery."

"I don't know, sir," Mayweather returned, "I kinda liked the way he talked about all we have accomplished. If you look back at all the things we have seen and done in four and a half years, it is a pretty impressive list."

Archer smiled warmly at the young man. "Yes, I can see your point, but we can't let it go to our heads. We have made as many mistakes in those four and a half years as we have corrected."

Reed flew the shuttlepod into the moon's thick atmosphere and down to the moon's surface. He plotted a course to take them to the major city located in the southern hemisphere. As they drew near, the magnificence of the city overtook them. It was like something out of a fairly tale. Large castles, with numerous towers and turrets, rose into the sky. The city appeared be set upon water, much like Venice on Earth. The roadways were actually waterways, canals and rivers. Great spanning bridges seemed to connect one section of the city with another. Beautiful footpaths wound their way in and out of the different sections of the city. Flowers and plants of every kind adorned the canals, bridges, footpaths, and castles. There were also other lofty buildings scattered throughout the city, shining with an intense warm glow. The city was nestled in amongst tall trees with lush blooms of some kind of purple flower. There were gigantic columns supporting archways and roomy plazas. How could a city like this exist in a place that was supposed to be so war-torn?

"That looks like something out of Camelot or Avalon," Reed stated with awe as he readied to land the shuttlepod in the spaceport, just to the east of the city. The spaceport appeared to house hundreds of fighters, shuttles, transport ships, cargo vessels, and many other various types of spacecraft. It was nothing like anything they had seen before. Ships were coming and going in a steady stream of movement.

As the pod set down on its landing platform, Archer could see that a rather large greeting party had formed to greet the new visitors. Men and women in uniform stood off to the right. Their gray two-piece uniforms were cleaned and pressed. More men and women dressed in luxurious fashions gathered off to the left. The women wore gowns of what looked like silk. The edges of their dresses flowed like wind across a lake, all blues and purples. The men had on three-piece suits, cut crisp and sharp, all dark blue or plum. These color combinations only enhanced the translucent appearance of the Vorloren's pale skin. "Wow," Travis said with his mouth gaping open.

"You can sure say that again," Trip drawled out.

"This reminds me of the reception for physicians on Kinadiea Prime, years ago," Dr. Phlox said with glee. Phlox was a Denobulan. He was the only other alien crewmember serving abroad _Enterprise_. He had bright blue eyes, curly brown hair, and wavy ridges running cross his head were his forehead met his hairline, down each of his temples, ending at his cheeks. He had a large, roundish nose, and an insanely wide smile, like that of a clown. He was a highly skilled physician, versed in the medical knowledge of copious alien species.

The others in the shuttlepod just stared at him. He seemed to be the only one not star struck by the sight before them. The doctor had a lot of experience with many alien cultures, and so not much surprised him anymore. Trip hit the shuttlepod's door switch and the door extended out and upward, like the hatchback of an old-time Earth car. "Time to meet our fans," he quipped. Archer frowned at him, not looking forward to all the attention.

Romdel was among the throng of Vorlorens dressed in uniforms. "At last we meet face to face, Captain Archer," he said as he extended his hand for Archer to shake. The Captain matched the movement with one of his own, and the two shook hands. "Welcome to Quantima, my friends, the jewel of Vorlora. Please allow us to lead you to a reception, in your honor."

As the members of the _Enterprise _crew filed out of the shuttlepod, Archer tried to get Romdel to tone things down. "That really isn't necessary, Director. We wouldn't mind to just sit and chat with you."

"Nonsense, nonsense, Captain," Romdel was now almost pulling the Captain along with him towards the gates of the city. "You must be introduced to some important government officials and to some of the public. Then I will show you the treasure that will thrill you beyond belief. I know it thrilled many of our scientists." With that he continued to pull Archer through the city gates. The gates had to be several hundred meters tall, and they shone like alabaster. The rest of the landing party followed behind them.

The Captain realized that Romdel was again baiting him. Offering just enough information to tickle his curiosity, and then leaving him hanging and making him want more. Indeed, Archer was dying to find out what treasure Romdel was referring to. What item from Earth could have fascinated the Vorloren scientists so? This human would suffer through the meet-and-greet to learn what secret these people had. He hoped the rest of his people wouldn't mind very much. He felt a little guilty about dragging them through this, and he couldn't help but recall T'Pol's earlier words to him about satisfying his curiosity at the risk of his crew.

Five hours later however, Archer thought he had died and gone to hell. Just how many politicians and influential lobbyists did he have to talk to? Their fake compliments, their insincere interest in his crew, their obsession with him, and their manipulating double-talk, all got his goat. He could see the rest of the landing party wasn't fairing much better, with the exception of Phlox. He could talk about everything and nothing forever. He was surprised that Hoshi was not enjoying herself, but who could handle a bunch of self-absorbed, haughty, arrogant, government officials for very long? They loved to hear themselves talk and never really listened to what anyone had to say to them. They mostly wanted to know how Earth could help them win their fight, and that was something the Captain didn't want to respond to at the moment.

Archer had learned much about the Vorlorens civil war, however. It had started about three hundred years ago. A group of Vorlorens from the colonies of Lasiteria had decided they wanted to break away and become their own independent group of planets. The Vorlorens, who ruled by using an imperial monarch and a Council of Elders, refused all petitions for independence, claiming that only a united Vorloren Empire was a strong Vorloren Empire. Archer thought that sounded an awful lot like the American Revolutionary War of eighteenth century Earth.

The difference was the colonists had turned into terrorists and attacked civilian targets. They killed anyone who did not agree with them. They had become fanatics in their beliefs. If someone didn't believe in their cause, they put them to death. They stifled the very freedom they claimed they were fighting for. They killed just to show they could. They enjoyed tormenting and executing all who spoke against them. Each side sought for that one piece of technology that would end the war once and for all. They regretted that some species that had tried to help both sides tended to get caught up in the conflict and many were killed in the fighting. That was one side of the story anyway.

The Captain grabbed another pink drink off a passing tray. He gulped it down in one toss back. The liquid was sweet with a bite to it. It was some kind of wine, or other kind of alcoholic beverage. He knew it wasn't wise to drink it, but anything to dull the pain in his head. He noticed Trip was working on his third drink as well. The reception hall was colored in gold and blue. Rich draperies hung around the room with various different symbols on them. Three large round tables were set up in the front of the hall and were loaded with all kinds of food. Golden chairs with high backs were placed strategically around the room. A few gold and blue couches offered places to sit for more intimate conversations. He prayed this would be over soon.

As if sensing the Captain's weariness, Romdel finally rejoined him. "I think it is about time to show you what you really came here for, Captain." Romdel signaled to three uniformed men. They began rounding up the landing party and soon the whole group was ushered out of the reception hall. "I am sorry about all that Captain, but politics is politics. Our government officials need to know that you are willing to work with them, if we are to give away state secrets."

"State secrets?" Archer was confused now.

"This little wonder I keep telling you about is known only to key members of the Council and a few in the scientific and military community," Romdel explained. "I am the Director of Special Projects, as well as a top military commander. We are always experimenting with new technology and do not share it broadly with the general population, for their own protection of course," he added.

"Of course." Archer felt more and more like he was being lead into a trap, yet he had yet to see the bait.

Romdel had them stop on the steps of the reception hall building as he called for his transportation to be brought up to them. "You must understand the need for secrecy when trying to develop new ways to fight a war. We can't have the rebels getting wind of them and either copying them or counteracting them.

"Grand Duchess Halina helped fund and create an underground facility for designing and conducting these kind of secret experiments. The complex is deep inside the mountains to the north and stretches for kilometers outward in three directions. There are multiple labs, living quarters, offices, storage areas, decontamination stations, conference rooms, and many other structures suited to full time creation and testing." Romdel knew he had a captive audience now.

What appeared to be two hovering car-like vehicles stopped beside the steps and opened their doors to the waiting passengers. They each fit four people. Romdel escorted Archer, Trip, and Phlox into the first hovercraft, while one of the three guards escorted Hoshi, Travis, and Reed in the second one. The Captain was a little apprehensive about being separated, but at the moment he could do nothing about it. He decided to start asking some pointed questions, instead of letting Romdel dance around and around his subject. "What is it exactly that you create and test in this giant laboratory of yours?" Archer felt that was a good place to start.

"I like a man who isn't afraid to ask the difficult questions, Captain," Romdel said with a sickly sweet smile. His white moustache seemed to bend with the smile. "The Sinova Complex develops military technology for inflicting the maximum amount of casualties, viral weaponry for the same effect, and conducts genetic experimentation for stronger and better soldiers."

Trip's mouth hung open at Romdel's unabashed honesty. The alien man had just admitted to designing and testing weapons of mass destruction. They were using science to kill as many people as possible, as quickly as possible. "You can't be serious?" Trip's southern accent was coming out loud and clear.

Dr. Phlox was equally appalled. "Does you government actually approve of this kind of research?"

"Certain sections in our government are cooperative and generous, while others do not know the true nature of our work," Romdel answered without shame. "Gentlemen, do not looked so shocked. When you have been fighting for over three hundred years and have seen the atrocities that our enemies have not only subjected our fighting forces to, but also our civilians to, you have to take drastic measures. We must be able to win this war at all costs and put an end to the violence. We cannot ask our brave young men and women to continue this conflict into another generation."

Archer shook his head, "So you're working on weapons to perpetrate genocide to bring about peace?"

"Our peoples are not so different, Captain Archer," Romdel was now a little defensive in his tone. "From what we have gathered about Earth's history, your planet fought three world wars, the last killing over six hundred million people. Your own people experimented with weapons that had devastating effects and with genetic manipulation to create a better race."

The Captain knew this to be true, but it was all in the past. "Humanity has come a long way from that dark part of our history. We learned there are much simpler and more reasonable ways to have peace. All those experiments humanity conducted led to suffering, destruction, and heartache. None of us are proud of them."

Romdel was not convinced. "I don't think humans have come as far as you think. As I recalled Commander Tucker and your Vulcan science officer experienced first hand the lack of enlightenment many of your people still exhibit." Romdel was referring to the Terra Prime organization that was xenophobic and wanted to rid Earth of all non-humans. This terrorist group had managed to create a child using Trip and T'Pol's DNA, and used her as propaganda to show how humanity was losing its purity to alien races. Archer and his crew had put a stop to the group, but the baby girl did not survive. It was a deep anguish that neither T'Pol nor Trip had fully recovered from.

Silence followed Romdel's last comment, as the others were lost in the painful memories of just a few months ago. The hovercrafts had long since left the city and were heading into the distant mountains. These immense monoliths of stone and foliage overshadowed the valley below. They had to be at least 3,500 meters (11,400 ft) high or more. Snow covered the tips and thick clouds rolled over the peaks, hiding them from view. As the silence continued, the hovercrafts dipped low and veered right, heading straight at the mountainside.

Before the passengers could panic, the rock in front of them split open and began to retract. The hovercraft flew right into the mountain's now open jaws and seemed to be swallowed up in the darkness. As the doors closed behind them, little spots of illumination sprang to life as they made their way deeper into the mountain. Soon the lights of a landing platform came into view. It was marked with a strange diamond symbol, much like how a helicopter landing pad on the roof of a building was marked with a circled H, back in Earth's past. The hovercraft dropped swiftly as it came to fly directly over the symbol, then it landed with a whoosh of air and a light thump.

"Welcome to Sinova, Gentlemen. I will give you a full tour later. Right now I want to show you our marvelous find," Romdel said as he exited the hovercraft, followed by his guests. He led them through a series of security gates, each one identifying and scrutinizing Romdel and his party. They cleared each one easily and entered into the main complex. It was a huge glass-like structure in the shape of a pyramid, looking much like the Louve back on Earth, in Paris, France. The entire complex stretched for kilometers, just like Romdel had told them. Numerous buildings were scattered up and down the area, with a variety of streets and walkways. Some of the buildings had the glass-like appearance of the main complex, while others appeared to be metal or brick. The buildings were of various shapes and sizes. The landing party was impressed at the massiveness of it all.

As the group entered the complex, they found themselves in a grand lobby. Crystal and marble structures lined the walls and floors. There were two main desks with yet more security screening, one on the left and one on the right. Four Vorloren guards sat at the two desks. Beyond the lobby was a central hallway that seemed to branch off into three directions, passing deeper into the complex. From what the landing party had seen on the outside, the building appeared to have multiple stories, apart from the possibility of underground levels.

Just as they were clearing the security desks, the other group from the second hovercraft arrived. The Captain breathed a sigh of relief to have all members of the landing party back together. "Where are we going?" he asked of Romdel.

"Down to level twenty-eight, Captain," Romdel answered smoothly. "It is the most secure and top secret level of the complex. It houses all of our most sensitive experiments."

Captain Archer continued to be shocked and awed by this species. They had designated something from Earth to be so valuable that they had placed it in the most secretive place they could think of. What in the hell could it be? Nothing on Earth could possibly warrant that kind of caution, at least not to Archer's knowledge. He had to ask the burning question. "What is it that you have?"

"Shame on you, Captain," Romdel said smugly. "It must be a complete surprise, or all you have done to get here will be for naught. Besides," he added with a wicked gleam in his eye, "the artifact will speak for itself." Archer exchanged a look with Trip and Phlox. They too were wide-eyed with wonderment and fear. Hoshi had a deep frown on her face, Reed as well, and Travis seemed to be overwhelmed by the whole experience.

Romdel continued to lead them down one of the hallways to a turbolift type of elevator. He took out a security clearance card and swiped it through a key card machine attached to the turbolift door. The lights on the machine blinked from green to purple and the doors opened. "After you, my friends," Romdel said and allowed the crewmembers of the _Enterprise_ to enter first. They complied and he followed them inside.

Once the doors closed the turbolift hummed to life and plummeted downward with great acceleration. Trip and Reed had to grab Hoshi to keep her standing. The others grabbed handrails near them. "Sorry about that. We're all used to the speed of things here. I didn't realize that it would be so jarring to you."

"It's quite all right," Archer said with false sincerity. His stomach was in his throat and he was dizzy.

The stop was not as abrupt as the start. The lift glided gently to a stop at what must have been level twenty-eight. Archer couldn't translate the symbol that the flashing blue light had stopped next to. The Captain knew he was tightly in the trap now. He anxiously wondered when it would be sprung. He and most of his senior staff were deep underground, inside a mountain. _Enterprise_, in orbit of the planet, would be of no help to them now. He needed to be ready to act, when the time came.

The group exited the lift and entered a gigantic laboratory. Computer terminals lined the walls, tables of test tubes, beakers, measuring devices, syringes, microscopes, and other materials filled the multi-sectional glass lab. Huge observation windows allowed various areas of the lab to be seen. In the chambers they viewed through the windows, they saw all kinds of medical and diagnostic equipment, gurneys, scanners, imaging chambers, and so forth. The landing party's attention was drawn, however, to the middle of the lab. An enormous raised platform, or dais, sat there. On the dais lay a cylindrical box about the size of a man. It was silver in color, like it was made out of some sort of metal. LCD screens with various electronic panels lined the side the _Enterprise_ crew could see.

The cylindrical box was hooked up to some of the Vorloren computer terminals through a series of wires and electrical conduits. Trip noticed that it was also attached to something that must have been a power source. Whatever the box was, it needed to have power running to it. "This is what I have been whetting your appetites for, my friends," Romdel was extremely giddy now. "Go on Captain, take a look inside."

Archer felt lightheaded. This was it. This was what he had come here for, yet he couldn't move. He didn't know if it was from fear or anticipation, but he was rooted to the spot. The rest of his people seemed to be in a daze as well. What was in there? A weapon, a piece of technology, precious gems, gold bars, a data recorder from an old ship, an item from an ancient Earth civilization, the possibilities were endless in the Captain's mind. "Captain Archer?" Romdel's voice snapped him back to attention. "Are you all right?"

The Captain slowly stepped forward. "Yes," he whispered as he approached the artifact on the dais. His heartbeat had quickened and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. He blinked a few times and took a deep breath to steady himself. He noticed as he got closer to the box that it had a transparent window set inside its lid. The window went from the top of the lid to midway down the box. Archer stepped right up to the artifact and looked inside the window. His knees buckled and he had to grab onto the box to keep from falling, causing worried expressions to appear on his shipmates' faces. He couldn't believe what he saw. His breath was caught in his throat. This couldn't be.

Inside the cylindrical tube was a human woman, perfectly preserved. Her skin color indicated a Caucasian female, possibly of North American or European descent. She even had slight color in her cheeks. Her hair fell just past her shoulders and was a dark, curly brown. She appeared to have on a white tank top. The Captain couldn't see her hands, as they must have been lain down at her sides, hidden from view. The window had a frosty appearance, and he realized the box he touched was very cold. He turned to face Romdel.

"I will answer your next questions, Captain," Romdel said after careful observation of Archer's reaction to what he saw. "She is very much alive, very human, and she is from one hundred and fifty years ago in Earth's past."

TBC

**As a new fanfic writer I need to know how I am doing. I have much more story to tell. Please review to let me know what you think. I need to know if people are interested in my story or not. Is it a good idea for me to post more or not? Thanks again.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks**.

**Sorry it has taken me so long to post, but I was waiting for my beta reader to go through and help me fine tune my writing. She was well worth the wait. I happened to catch her in the middle of preparing for finals, bad timing on my part. I have to thank RadcliffePotter for her time and help. She is awesome and I am going to shamelessly plug her story Coming Back. Please check it out if you haven't. It is a fun and exciting story. **

**I am going to once again ask for everyone to please read and review. I know some people are reading the story or at least checking it out from my stats page, so please review too. Even if it is one or two sentences. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. Feedback not only makes a writer's day, but it also helps us improve. Thanks!**

**A big Merry Chirstmas and thank you to all of you who have reviewed. You guys rock!!**

**This chapter gets a little more exciting and a little more violent, so it is definitely T or maybe T+ if that rating even exists. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

"Say that again," the Captain said in a breathy voice, recognizing the trap had been sprung. Romdel would hold this turn of events against them, until he got what he wanted.

From Romdel's wide grin, the _Enterprise_ crew could tell he was very self-satisfied by the Captain's reaction to what he saw in the box. "What you see in the cryogenic freezer is a human woman. Our scientists were able to date the titanium metal it is mainly constructed out of to around your Earth's early twenty-first century. The rest of you may look for yourselves," Romdel added this at the end to spur the rest of the landing party into action. They hesitated for a few seconds, just as their captain did, then they moved to see into the box in front of them.

"There really is a girl in there," Trip said completely dumbfounded.

Reed smiled as he took in her beauty. Hoshi stared in amazement at the young human woman. Travis whistled his appreciation at the sight. "She looks like something out of an old Earth fairy tale," he commented, "I can't think of the title though."

"I think you are talking about _Snow White_," Reed supplied the title for Mayweather. "I wonder who the witch was that put her to sleep."

Trip interjected his opinion. "No, no, she isn't as pale as Snow White. I think _Sleeping Beauty _is more appropriate, don't you Cap'n?"

Archer was silent for a moment. He was contemplating all the implications of this alien species having a cryogenically frozen, but living, human from Earth's past in their custody. How it could be possible was almost unfathomable. Finally, he turned to Trip and answered his question, "Yes, I do. However, it seems that our Briar Rose is very far from home." This agreement with Trip's assessment brought a delighted grin to Trip's handsome face, lighting up his intense blue eyes.

"Where did she come from?" This came from Dr. Phlox, who was already trying to read the screens and control panels on the cryogenic chamber.

"An excellent question, Doctor," Romdel could barely contain his excitement. The reactions he was seeing were better than those he had hoped for.

"One I expect you to fully answer," Archer told Romdel, completely no nonsense now. He was sick of Romdel's game. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"I would be more than happy to tell you the whole story," Romdel said as he launched into his tale. He had been dying to do so since he had learned of the humans' arrival in Vorloren space. "About six months ago, one of our patrols wandered far out of their normal sector. Some type of meteor storm or something was the cause. They were forced light years off course," Romdel explained the reason for this problem when he saw Trip and the Captain's confused expressions. "We don't use warp drive, Captain, we use a hyperdrive system to travel great distances through space. We have to open up a hyperspace window in subspace. Certain conditions can effect where the final hyperspace window will open up. If there are any calculations that are even a fraction of a percent off, our pilots can end up in the wrong place."

"That sounds kinda risky," Trip interrupted Romdel's explanation.

Romdel looked at the chief engineer with irritation. "It is. But as I have told you earlier, we are in desperate need to end this war. It is far faster than warp speed. We will use any technology we can, even if it is 'risky', as you so delicately put it."

"Please continue," Archer interjected. He could tell Romdel was a little offended by Trip's comment.

"Of course, Captain," Romdel turned his attention back to Archer. "As I was saying, our pilots ended up light years from where they were supposed to be. Their hyperspace window dropped them off in an unknown field of gigantic asteroids. Some asteroids were larger than our beautiful moon here, and some were capable of fitting entire cities on their surface. One of our patrol ships began picking up strange energy readings from one of the largest asteroids. It was not an energy signature we were familiar with. The closer the patrol ship flew to the asteroid, the stronger the energy signature became. The patrol ship decided to set down and investigate, while the rest of the patrol tried to find out how to get back to our section of space."

Reed and Mayweather were fascinated by Romdel's story. It reminded them of Cold Station 12. It was a secret base that Earth used to store very dangerous and virulent strains of various viruses and infectious diseases for study. It was also hidden in an asteroid field to disguise its true nature. The Captain wanted Romdel to get to the point. "And?" he questioned.

"And they found an old Earth base," Romdel let his words sink in, then continued. "Like I said before, we have been following Earth's progress for sometime now and were familiar with your history. All the information that the patrol sent back intrigued our military and scientific communities. We sent back a large investigative unit to search and salvage anything we could at the base. We found five cryogenic chambers like the one you see before you. Three were empty and two had bodies in them. This unit you see before you was the only one with a surviving life signature."

Archer was bewildered at this explanation, but a little angry as well. "What else did you take?"

"Don't be so judgmental, Captain," Romdel scolded Archer. "Your people would have done exactly the same thing." Before the Captain could respond, Romdel added, "To answer your question, we took as much as was salvageable: some computer data and files, the other cryogenic chambers, some working electronic components and power generators, and other scrap materials."

"What kind of data were you able to retrieve?" Reed asked as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Mostly notes about the genetic experiments the human scientists had been working on at the base," Romdel told him. "Much of the information was incomplete or parts of the data disks had been damaged. We did learn a little about your mystery woman, but not much." At the mention of genetic experimentation, a fearful thought began to form in Captain Archer's mind. Could this woman be another Augment from the Eugenics Wars? If she was, Archer had a bad feeling about the whole situation.

Dr. Phlox decided to jump in. "Have you tried to revive her?"

"Our scientists have been studying and debating on how to do so, but they realized she is probably one of a kind, and they haven't wanted to risk killing her, or damaging her in anyway by using improper procedures." Romdel stressed his next words heavily, "That is why we were so elated when your ship showed up when it did. We figured that with your ship being an Earth vessel, your people would have the knowledge and expertise to wake her and understand what she is. Frankly, she baffles our scientists. We understand so little of human physiology and technology as it is, but from all of our scans it is evident that she is not a normal human. She has been genetically altered."

Archer was beginning to feel more and more trapped as it seemed that his fears were being confirmed. "What exactly do you want from us?" The Captain didn't care if he sounded rude or not.

"Nothing that you, yourselves, do not want as well." Romdel stepped up to Archer. "Help us revive her and understand her creation. Once you have shared with us what she is and how she could have been created, you can take her home with you. I am sure she would want to be among her people and would be of great historic value to your world."

The Captain doubted the last part of what Romdel said. He didn't think they would be taking the person in the box home to Earth, ever. Archer was having an inner war, deep inside himself. Part of him screamed to wake this woman and free her from her prison, but another, more rational part of him, feared unleashing another Augment upon the galaxy. They were unpredictable and tended to be driven by tyrannical ambition. Their enhanced strength and intelligence would be a great weapon for the Vorlorens. Archer knew that the Vorlorens would want to design genetic super soldiers to defeat their enemies. It was something he couldn't let them do, if he could prevent it. But then again, he just couldn't leave this woman, who was human, in limbo either.

"Would it be possible, Phlox, to revive her?" The Captain found himself asking as he gazed down at the loveliness he saw in the box. Something about her was getting to him, and not in a bad way.

Phlox was taken aback by the Captain's question. He had been expecting Archer to flat out refuse Romdel. He looked at the rest of the landing party and they were just as perplexed as he was. "Are you seriously considering this ludicrous proposal, Captain?" This came from Reed.

Archer answered him, still staring into the box, "I just want to know if it's possible." His voice was soft.

"I'm not sure, Captain," Phlox said honestly. "The technology is primitive to say the least, and I don't know what the effects of one hundred and fifty years in cryogenic freeze would have on a human, Augment, or not." There, he had said what every member of the away team was thinking.

Romdel about burst at this admission, "So you think she might be one of Earth's genetically engineered supermen?" His voice contained a slight note of hysteria in it.

"It seems most likely, even though you have given us only a small amount of information, that is a fact we can conclude," Phlox did not hide his thoughts.

"Trip, what can you determine about this unit?" Archer looked at his chief engineer.

Trip broke out of his reverie and began studying the chamber with a technical eye. He ran his hand over the surface and walked down its length. He squatted down and considered the control panels and screens. He checked the wires and electrical conduit that connected to the Vorloren power source. "Well," he started, "if I'm readin' this right, the unit right now only has enough juice to sustain its current power rate. It would take a whole hell'va lot more power for it to be able to run a revival program. Findin' the right revival program might take some time though. But all in all, the unit does appear to be workin' correctly."

Archer made his decision. "Could you and Dr. Phlox do it?"

Phlox answered for both himself and Trip, "It might be possible Captain, but it may not be wise."

"I realize that Doctor, but I think the benefits in this case will far outweigh the possible problems." The Captain's voice was firm.

Trip spoke up, "It might be a good idea to have T'Pol take a look at all this. She is the Science Officer."

"I agree." The Captain turned to Romdel. "We will go along with your request, Director----."

Romdel didn't let the Captain finish his statement, "Oh, Captain! Captain! You do not know how happy this makes my people and me. We will be eternally in your debt for your help. I knew that your species and mine would be able to become great friends," he gushed.

"You didn't let me finish," Archer's tone was very serious. "We will agree to this _only_ under strict conditions. First, my Science Officer will be allowed to come down here and assist. Second, a squad of MACOs from _Enterprise_ will be allowed to help supervise security." Archer held up his hand when Romdel tried to interrupt. "I realize you have terrific security already, but humor me. Third, she may be in your custody, but she is human, and therefore, she is my responsibility. I will directly supervise any research done on her, and I will not let anything be done to her against her will. Fourth, you will give us full access to any data or information you retrieved from that Earth base you say you found her on."

Romdel now realized he had underestimated Captain Archer. This human was not a fool. "If I don't agree to your terms?"

"We destroy her and leave," the Captain was bluffing now, but Romdel didn't know that.

"You would rather kill a member of your own species than let us keep her to help ourselves?" Romdel couldn't believe it, yet he knew of Archer's determination and stubbornness from studying his profile.

The Captain looked Romdel right in the eye and said, "You can bet on it."

"Alright, you win Captain," Romdel gave in. He desperately wanted the humans' help. "I will agree to your terms. There is a force field that surrounds the complex and the mountain itself. If you want to use your transporter device instead of your shuttlepods to save time, I will have my men lower the force field for you."

Unnerved yet again by the Vorlorens' knowledge about humans and their technology, Archer took out his communicator to speak with T'Pol, whom he had left in charge of _Enterprise_. "The force field must be down, for you communication device to work as well," Romdel informed him. Romdel pressed a comm button on a nearby wall and gave the order for the force field to be lowered.

It took Archer a while to explain the entire situation to T'Pol, who was less than pleased by the turn of events. She thought it foolish to go along with what the Vorlorens wished, even if it was to root out a greater threat. She finally agreed to come down and help investigate the workings of the cryo unit. Hoshi and Travis decided to go back up to _Enterprise_ to inform Starfleet of what was going on and to keep watch on board the ship. A team of ten MACOs was beamed down to assist with security concerns.

The Military Assault Command Operations Team (MACOs) were like a group of marines attached to an Earth navy detail. They acted like a Special Forces or S.W.A.T. unit. Their uniforms were gray and black with a shark symbol on them. It was a play on words with the Earth animal, a Mako Shark. They used plasma rifles that were like submachine guns. They could fire short bursts or fire in rapid succession. They were particle weapons, like a phase pistol. MACOs also carried stun grenades and a hooked shock baton.

The MACO units had started being assigned to Starfleet vessels during the Xindi incident, two years previous. It was when Earth had been at war with the hostile species that _Enterprise_ had been required to go and stop the Xindi from destroying Earth. Starfleet had thought it prudent to have a strong military presence on board. The MACOs proved to be a great asset and were kept aboard even after the Xindi were defeated. They had their own commander, but he in turn was under the direction of the captain of the ship that the unit served on.

Trip, Phlox, and T'Pol worked day and night on deciphering the cryo unit's various systems and functions. Phlox and T'Pol also researched the earlier Earth scientists' work to find out what kind of being they were dealing with. After five, long days, they finally had a breakthrough and found the right revival program. It was shortly after that when Trip was able to fix the power problem with some dilithium crystals added to the power matrix. It seemed this woman was being kept for further research into genetic engineering and cryogenic freezing had been the best option, at the time, to preserve her.

She was different from the Augments that the _Enterprise _crew had dealt with before. She was a hybrid with a plethora of DNA sources, some even from Earth animals. She also had a unique viral signature attached to her DNA sequence. It was no wonder that the Vorlorens had trouble identifying and analyzing her. She was unlike anything Dr. Phlox had ever seen before, and that was saying a lot. The data files were very damaged and only bits and pieces could be reconstructed, but apparently there was some kind of defect in her design that the scientists had been trying to correct. It appeared that they hadn't had any success. Phlox and T'Pol were becoming increasingly worried about waking her up. There were too many unknown variables and not enough clear facts.

Captain Archer had returned to the ship to carry out his various duties, but he checked in with his team every few hours. He also returned to the moon from time to time to have discussions with Romdel and some of his associates. The Captain was trying to stall for time and subtly refused to promise anything to the Vorlorens. After a few days, however, the Captain developed a slight problem with himself. He found that he was constantly thinking about the woman in the cryo unit. She was never far from his thoughts. She haunted his dreams, like he was chasing a rainbow to its end to find the pot of gold, only to have the end move just out of reach as he tried to approach it. She was a promise of spring after a long, cold, dark winter.

Who was she? What was she like? Would she be like the Augments, or worse? Would she be better? What would she think of this time? She was elegant and exquisite, as she slept peacefully. He pictured her often, almost to the point of distraction. It was very unlike him. It was almost like the effect the Orion females had on him and the rest of the males that made up his crew: very intoxicating. Was he doing the right thing by reviving her? Was she truly like a princess out of a fairy tale that needed a handsome prince to kiss her and wake her up? Was he supposed to be that prince? Something kept telling him that that was so, but then his rational side would argue that, it was pure fantasy, and very irrational thinking. He needed to think of his crew and his mission, not a cryogenically frozen woman from Earth's past.

Now as he stood with his Chief Engineer, Chief Medical Officer, Tactical Officer, and Science Officer ready to implement the revival program, he was all business. He pushed all daydreams away. This situation could be dangerous and volatile, and he needed to be clear-headed. The ten MACOs were stationed around the glass lab, along with many of the Vorloren military guard.

Trip and Reed were talking quietly a few feet away, waiting for the Vorloren officials to give the go ahead. "You know these Vorlorens remind me of the Aenar from Andoria," Reed said to Trip.

"Kinda," Trip responded, "But they don't have just white hair; their hair is all different colors and styles. They have no antennas. Their irises are white, not clouded over and blinded like the Aenar. And their skin is more translucent, you know more see-through, than white."

Reed gave Trip an annoyed looked. "Ok, Commander, just poke holes in all my theories."

"Sorry, Malcolm, but I just call 'em like I see 'em," Trip quipped and Reed couldn't help but laugh at the truth of the statement.

Director Romdel's sudden presence, along with Grand Duchess Halina, instantly cut off the friendly banter. "We are ready gentlemen, whenever you are." Trip and Reed quickly moved back over to the cryo unit and turned to their captain.

"Go ahead," Archer said.

Trip flipped a few switches and dials, then entered the code that would begin the revival process. He double checked the power readings and was satisfied by the numbers he saw. Phlox monitored the vitals signs of the woman inside. They were barely readable, but stable. Soon after Trip turned the power on and keyed in the right code, the unit started to hum. A light inside the unit above the woman's body came on. "The temperature is starting to rise like it's supposed to," Trip informed the group. "We've set it to bring her temperature up to a normal human level."

"How long will the entire thawing process take?" the Grand Duchess asked, her voice light and airy. She was extremely tall with long, black hair.

Phlox responded to her. "Not long, but then it will take the unit some time to stabilize her various body systems. The balancing act the unit must go through is delicate. It must also simulate her neuro pathways to bring her back to consciousness."

"This is absolutely fascinating," the Duchess cooed.

Archer felt a thrill of anticipation run up his spine that had nothing to do with fear, as he watched the temperature climb higher. "Her respiration has increased, as well as her heartbeat," Phlox updated them. The Captain realized that his respiration and heartbeat had also increased. He shook himself mentally to stop the emotional reaction.

"Doctor, her temperature is rising as well," T'Pol said as she watched the gauge move upward.

"Power levels are holding steady," Trip told his audience.

Reed could actually see the woman's chest rise and fall with breath. She was breathing almost normally now. The color in her cheeks had increased too. Her eyes moved back and forth under her eyelids as she stirred. Suddenly, an alarm went off on the unit. The woman started to convulse inside. "What's wrong?" Reed said with concern in his voice.

"Her temperature is fluctuating dramatically," T'Pol reported calmly.

"She should be fine," Trip stated. "We set it to bring her up to ninety-eight point six degrees."

T'Pol watched her monitor again. "She reached that, and then the readings began to become erratic."

Phlox quickly hit a few keys on the unit. "I'm going to change the temperature setting on the unit to change the level of her temperature. She must have a slightly different body temperature than a normal human."

"Lower or higher?" Trip asked as he adjusted the power level to match the demand for power a temperature change would put on the power grid.

"Higher," Phlox said.

Archer tried not to show his concern. He masked his face behind a stoic look. What he really wanted to do was rush to the unit and do something, anything. It was a silly thought. His people were handling the situation just fine, and they had the expertise, not him. The alarm stopped and so did the woman's convulsions. "What did you set the temperature at Phlox?" The Captain asked as neutrally as possible.

"I raised her body temperature to one hundred and one," Phlox did not look up as he spoke, but kept his eyes on his screens. "It seems to be working."

Trip smiled despite himself. "She runs a little hot, huh?"

"It would appear so, Commander," T'Pol answered him without emotion.

After a few more minutes the unit started making a clicking sound and the cryo unit lid unlocked. A thick fog rolled out of the opening. When it cleared, it revealed the woman still asleep, but breathing normally. She was indeed clothed in a white tank top and white shorts. She was barefooted. The sleeper was not a large woman, maybe five foot five, at the most. Her form moved slowly, as consciousness came to her.

Mac heard noise all around her. She had been in the dark and now the light was blinding her. Instinct took control of her mind. No coherent thought came to her. She did not process any conscious ideas. Mac blinked her eyes, trying to focus on any image, knowing that she needed to see. Her mind knew only to assess danger or safety, hunger, or thirst, basic needs. As her eyes focused, she saw something she didn't understand. From the smell, the figure was male, but that was all she could tell. He smelled strange, foreign, and alien. Her eyes took in his bright blue eyes and the ridges on his forehead and the sides of his face. Mac's mind fired off a danger signal. This thing was a threat. She had to defend herself.

The group all stood back as Phlox leaned over his new patient to assess her physical state. The monitors all showed that she should be waking by now. He observed her eyes flutter open a few times and he thought he saw her nostrils flare in the act of sniffing, yet she remained still.

"Is she okay?" Archer had to ask.

Phlox turned from the woman in the unit to answer the Captain. The second he did, the woman pounced. The doctor felt himself literally fly across the room, as the woman grabbed him with one hand, by his collar, and threw him like a rag doll into the wall. She was up and out of the cryo unit with blinding speed. The Vorlorens panicked and drew their guns on her. Instantly sensing this, she turned on them. In a blurred motion she had disarmed three of the Vorlorens; one with a kick to his solar plexus, one with a kick to his jaw, and one with a kick to his shins. The three guards went down with sickening cracks of bone, dropping their weapons. The one she kicked in the jaw was not moving. She had broken his jaw with such force that it had snapped his neck.

Other Vorloren guards went for their weapons, some firing their version of a particle weapon at her. She easily avoided the shots with a series of backhand springs. Then she flashed to the guards' positions and in seconds she had them writhing on the floor in agony, a few with torn throats. Their blood pooled in translucent puddles around them. The _Enterprise _MACOs tried to advance on her as well. She grabbed one's arm and twisted him to the ground, breaking his arm. The other, she swept his legs out from under him with a spinning kick. The whole lab was in an uproar. Romdel and the Grand Duchess had fled to another area of the lab. The _Enterprise_ crew had backed away from the cryo unit. T'Pol and Trip were checking Phlox to make sure he was unhurt. MACOs and Vorloren guards ran everywhere, trying to stop the rampaging woman.

More MACOs advanced on her. One even got a shot off, hitting her squarely in the chest. The woman flinched, but did not go down. Stun wasn't going to work on her. After the fired shot, the MACOs found themselves in trouble. One received two gut punches, another one had his nose bone pushed up into his brain, another felt his neck crack as the woman grabbed his face and twisted it, and yet another received a blow to his spine that severed it. She had killed three out of the four that had just attacked her.

Reed couldn't take it anymore. The MACOs were partly his responsibility as the tactical officer on _Enterprise. _He couldn't see them slaughtered and not act. He tried to come up behind the woman with a phase pistol. She immediately turned on him. Her elbow hit him in the jaw, sending blinding pain through his head. She chopped the pistol out of his hand, and grabbed him around the throat. She was preparing to either break his neck or tear his windpipe out of his throat. He felt her nails, like claws, going for his throat as she held him against her, with an arm around his neck.

Archer stood for several moments utterly flabbergasted. This woman was much stronger and quicker than any Augment he had faced off with. Somehow though, he knew she was not meaning to do this. She was acting on animal instinct. If he could get through to her conscious, human mind, he could stop this. Archer realized he needed to stop her from feeling threatened. The Captain didn't know where this insight was coming from, but he would act upon it. He stepped slowly toward her, as she held Reed. He held his hands up and his arms wide, trying to look harmless. "Please stop," he spoke soothingly to her, like one would speak to a wild animal to keep it from attacking. "We don't want to hurt you. We're friends."

Mac froze. She held the male she had tightly in her grip. She watched bedazzled, as another male approached her. His voice rolled over her, like a wave of equanimity. His stance seemed non-threatening. He held no weapon and he did not advance further. She knew he was addressing her, but the sounds coming out of him didn't make sense.

The Captain noticed her freeze. He hoped it was a good sign. He saw her observe him closely, curiously. He spoke again, softly and gently, "I'm Jonathan Archer. I'm from Earth. I promise we won't hurt you." The woman stared at him. Her eyes were a bright amber color, like those of a wolf back on Earth. They were not human.

Mac listened to the strange male. He made sounds at her again. She smelled the air carefully, trying to find his scent. When she found it, she breathed it deeply. It comforted her, made her feel safe. His voice was calming, just like a mother's touch could bring peace to a fitful child. She found she could focus a little more. Her mind began to clear. He needed to speak again.

Archer hoped he was getting through to her. She acted as if she didn't understand him. He tried again. "Please don't hurt Malcolm. He's a good friend. Someone I care about. Can you understand that?" The Captain watched as the amber glow in her eyes began to fade. Her eyes became a dark brown, almost black color, but very human. He noticed that she still held Reed so he was immobile, but she had loosened her grip enough that he could tell she wasn't going to hurt him. "I'm Jonathan. That's Malcolm. What can we call you?" He found repetition to always be a good way to help someone focus.

A switch in Mac's mind flipped over and the instinct began to fade away. Clear and intelligent thought took its place. This man, a white North American, was speaking to her in English. He didn't want to hurt her, but he thought she was hurting his friend. She looked around and saw the damage she knew she had caused. Ten or more bodies lay at odd angles on the ground, some dead, others near it. She knew she held a man in a death grip. There were other men and some women with weapons pointed at her. Fear threatened to consume her again.

Archer sensed that she didn't like the guns pointed at her. "Everyone put down your weapons; she sees them as a threat."

"But, Captain Archer we can't----," a MACO tried to argue, looking at the Vorloren and human blood on the floor of the lab.

"That is an order, Major! Do it!" Archer was as forceful as he could be. "That goes for the rest of you as well," he told the Vorlorens. Reluctantly, they complied.

This man was obviously an alpha male. Others were submissive to him. No, that wasn't right. She looked at Archer again. He had on some kind of uniform. She noticed the markings on his right shoulder. He had a high rank, she guessed. He was a commanding officer in some kind of military. That made more sense, and more important it made sense that he didn't want to hurt her. She studied his strong build and tall frame. He had hazel-green eyes and short brown hair. He appeared to be a seasoned man. His eyes were kind, compassionate, loving. Where did that last thought come from? She shook it off. Mac, her name was Mac. She remembered that now. "Mac," she got out very hoarsely. What was wrong with her voice? She coughed and tried again. "My name is Mac."

The man smiled at her. It made her feel warm inside. "Hi, Mac. I'm Jonathan. Could I get you to release Malcolm?"

Mac was still holding Reed tightly around his neck. She knew she should release him, but he was her insurance policy. "You won't hurt me?" she croaked out.

"No, no, of course not," Archer told her. "What happened before was a misunderstanding. It's all right." His voice sent tingling ripples through her.

Mac instantly trusted this Jonathan. She had no idea why, but she knew he would be true to his word. It was so odd. She had never trusted anyone, ever. Well, except maybe the man she had once called Father, but that had been so long ago, and hadn't ended well. "Okay, I'll release him," and she did just that. Reed quickly stepped away and staggered over to the Captain.

"Thank you, Mac," Archer said as he stepped closer to her. Relief washed through him as the situation resolved itself. God, she was amazing, and she was here and very real, but also very deadly. "I guess we have some explaining to do for you."

Mac smiled back at him, she couldn't help it. "I think you do. I am so sorry for what I did." She hung her head in shame, the smile suddenly gone. "I---I didn't mean to. I---It just ha--ha--appened," she stammered.

"I know, I know," was all Archer could say.

Mac suddenly felt very dizzy. Her heart beat irregularly and her knees began to buckle. She didn't feel well at all. Her vision began to get fuzzy. "Jonathan!" she cried out, as her legs gave way beneath her. In an instant Archer was at her side. He caught her just before she hit the ground. She was very warm to the touch. He held her to him as she passed out.

"We need to find out what's going on with her," the Captain informed everyone and no one at the same time. "Is Phlox all right?"

"I'm fine, Captain," came Phlox's reply from somewhere behind the cryo unit. "I just had the wind knocked out of me. I do need to take a look at her."

Romdel came over to Archer in a very agitated state. "Captain, she is extremely dangerous. I had no idea that she would be capable of this," Romdel indicated the dead men around him. "We must keep her securely locked up."

Archer instantly came to her defense. "She isn't some animal you can put in a cage. She awoke very startled and disoriented. Her natural defensive instincts were ahead of her conscious, sentient mind when she was revived. I was able to calm her down, you saw. She felt ashamed of what happened. She didn't do it out of malice."

Romdel considered this. He didn't want to upset Archer, he still needed him. "Yes, you seemed to have a positive effect on her. I will let you treat her and not lock her away, but only if you stay right with her. She must not be out of your sight, or the sight of a full security detail."

"Agreed," was all Archer said.

Romdel then took charge of the scene. "Don't just stand their gaping like idiots. Get started and get this mess cleaned up."

TBC


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Please read and review. This chapter adds in a plot twist. Hope everyone likes it. Let me know.**

**Chapter 4**

Director Romdel stood in a special, high-tech, secret, holographic chamber located on the thirtieth, underground floor of the main complex at Sinova. He was speaking with a mysterious benefactor from the future. This mystery man could not travel back in time, but he could project his image back through time. The man from the future appeared as an outline or a dark shadow. He wanted no one to know his true identity. No one even knew what species he was, though his form did suggest he was humanoid. The mystery man was the same person from the twenty-ninth century that had interfered with Captain Archer's time era many times before.

Future Guy, as several of the _Enterprise's_ crew had nicknamed him, usually worked through a species living in the twenty-second century to influence the timeline there. That species was known as the Suliban. The future being had given the Suliban genetic enhancements and advanced technology from the future in exchange for their service to him in the Temporal Cold War. The Temporal Cold War was a continuous struggle between various factions from different future time periods trying to impact the past, for good or evil purposes. Some of the factions wanted to maintain the status quo of what they considered the original timeline of the universe.

This time, however, Future Guy had decided to take advantage of the Vorlorens' civil war and their critical need for bigger and better weapons, instead of involving the Suliban. He promised them many things. But unlike with the Suliban, he made the Vorlorens find their own advancements with information he provided to them, instead of just handing over advancements to them directly. He had been a guiding force in helping them locate and find other species' technologies that they could exploit for themselves. In return the Vorlorens' gathered information he needed or interfered with the species which Future Guy wanted. His true purposes for interfering in the twenty-second century were unknown even to the Vorlorens and the Suliban.

He had once tried to stop Archer and his crew from succeeding in exploring and expanding humankind out into the vastness of space. At another time he had warned Archer of the devastating weapon the Xindi were building to destroy Earth. He obviously had wanted Earth to survive into his time period. It was guessed that he must have some sort of ties to Earth, and that maybe his continued existence counted on Earth's continued existence. Right now, he needed the Vorlorens to help influence Captain Archer to take certain actions. Using the Suliban would tip Archer off to his involvement. He was extremely glad now that one of his Suliban warriors, Silik, had not killed Archer a few years earlier. Future Guy had recently discovered a very important event that Archer must participate in or the consequences would be dire.

"Are things progressing as they should?" he asked in a hard, low voice.

The transparent alien in front of him felt he had good news to report to his benefactor. "Better than we could have hoped for, sir," Romdel spoke with pride. "The humans have reacted to the situation just as you predicted they would."

"And Archer?" Future Guy demanded.

Romdel said with great satisfaction, "He is hooked sir and hooked deeply."

"What of the woman?" Future Guy asked almost impatiently.

Romdel hesitated. "She was successfully revived, but then collapsed. Our best physicians and Dr. Phlox are treating her." He added to this statement with what he desired and feared. "This woman is the weapon we have been seeking for so long, but she is unpredictable and very hazardous to use. She killed many of my men and some of the humans as well. We thought the humans would have more control over their own than they did. It frightened many of us, but we still want to be able to either clone her or replicate her DNA structure to be added to our own. Will you continue helping us with this plan?"

The mystery man from the future left no room for argument in his tone, "You will get what you want, after I get what I want. Her volatile nature will gradually be successfully integrated into her more gentle nature. The demonic side of her and the angelic side of her are out of balance, but Archer will change that. See that he does. Make sure she recovers fully from her breakdown. If you can gain other technology from Archer or his people you may do so, but you will not harm any of them. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir," Romdel offered his benefactor a small bow. "And I thank you for your generosity and assistance." With that said, the holographic image disappeared, leaving Romdel alone to plot some of his own ploys for power and control.

* * *

The genetically engineered woman, who called herself, Mac, had been sleeping for forty-eight hours now. Phlox acknowledged that this sleep was a real and true healing sleep. The cryogenic, frozen sleep had not allowed her body to function through its normal cycles of renewal. It had held her in stasis. The sleep she was having now was letting her body rebalance itself. Her little aerobatic stunts and the surge of adrenaline and endorphins that had come with them, had sent her equilibrium completely out of whack. Her body had jumpstarted itself into action and then paid the price for it.

Mac's collapse was caused from an overload of stimulation that did not last long, and then left her body totally drained of energy, even enough to breathe, for a time. It was like having an enormous sugar rush all of a sudden, and then having it leave as fast as it came. If she hadn't been genetically engineered, she would be dead. Phlox marveled at this creature's recuperative powers. Mac truly defied much of what he knew about humans and Augments.

The REM cycles the woman was now going through were restoring her neurons, neurotransmitters, and brainwaves to healthy levels. Mac's entire nervous system seemed to be reactivating itself all throughout her body. Her circulatory and respiratory systems were performing their duties of regulating the oxygen levels within her body. The doctor had thought it wise to nourish her mind and body with vitamins, minerals, and proteins. He had added a heavy dose of electrolytes and water to hydrate her properly. He chose to do this intravenously, as he didn't think her digestive system would handle solid food at the moment and he had to get nutrients into her in her unconscious state.

Captain Archer had been true to his word to Romdel. In the forty-eight hours since Mac's collapse, he had stuck right by her side. Phlox smiled fondly at the Captain as the doctor noticed he had fallen asleep in the chair next to Mac's bed. When Phlox had been first assessing the genetically engineered woman's condition after her collapse, Archer had demanded he be allowed to take her up to _Enterprise_ for treatment. Romdel had vehemently refused this demand. The Director was not going to be stupid enough to risk losing the only bargaining chip he had with the humans that way. He insisted that Mac be treated in the Sinova complex's hospital.

Archer had finally agreed to this limitation, as long as Phlox received all the help and equipment he needed to treat Mac effectively. So far, the Vorlorens had not disappointed him. Phlox had received more than enough help and all the equipment and supplies he needed from the hospital and from his sickbay on _Enterprise._ The doctor was well aware that the Vorlorens had a large stake in making sure that Mac survived intact. They had big plans for her, which he was sure Archer would put a stop to, eventually. Phlox had been puzzling over Captain Archer's behavior toward the genetically engineered woman.

Mac had killed nearly a dozen men quickly and efficiently. She never hesitated. She was the perfect killing machine. Then suddenly, when the Captain had spoken to her and seemed to understand what was going on with her, she had snapped out of her primitive state. Archer had been able to reach her sentient mind. The way she had responded to the Captain astounded him. True, he was the only one to try to speak to her and not attack her, but the change he had wrought in her in such a short amount of time was nothing short of miraculous. Phlox didn't think just anybody could have had an affect on someone as far-gone into an animalistic frenzy as Mac had been. Phlox would be pondering why this was so for a long time. He would have to talk to the Captain, at a later time, about what had happened.

Mac stirred. She moaned as her eyes blinked open. She stretched much like a large predatory cat would. Luckily, the first person she saw was Archer, not Phlox. The doctor feared he would send her into a panic again. He assumed that any woman from the twenty-first century, genetically engineered or not, had not seen an alien before. "Jonathan?" she questioned, her voice a little less hoarse than before.

Archer was instantly awake. It was almost like he had sensed she was conscious. "Hi, Mac," he said gently to her.

"I thought you were a dream," she said as she looked around the room. Her eyes took in the IV and other medical equipment hooked up to her. She saw that she was in a sterile, crystal-white room. Then she saw Phlox. She smelled his alien scent too. The same scent that had triggered her danger sense. Mac reached out and grabbed the Captain's arm for support. The instant she touched him, she felt calmer, more in control of herself.

"Take it easy," Archer said softly. "He's a friend. He's name is Doctor Phlox. He comes from the planet of Denobula. He is my Chief Medical Officer."

Mac took a second to digest what Archer had told her. "He's from another planet?" How was that possible?

The Captain knew he had a lot of explaining to do. Mac came from a time period without knowing about life on other planets, let alone that humans now traveled among the stars. "I have a lot to explain to you, Mac, and I'm not sure where to start."

"How about the beginning?" Mac deadpanned.

Archer laughed. "Was that a joke?" He found himself smiling, and he took the hand she had grabbed his arm with and slipped it into his own. Mac didn't seem to mind.

"I guess it was," she smiled back, all fear gone now. "Where am I?" she asked a little more seriously.

"Where isn't exactly as important as when," the Captain said, trying to soften the blow he knew was coming.

"When?" Mac said and raised a dark eyebrow at Archer.

The Captain cleared his throat. "Yeah. You see, you were cryogenically frozen one hundred and fifty years ago."

"What!?" Mac exclaimed and panic started to set in again. Archer tenderly rubbed her hand in his. Again, Mac responded to his touch by feeling more peace and less conflict. "The last date I can remember is sometime in the year 2000. Are you telling me that I am now in the year 2150?"

Phlox decided to get in on the conversation. "Actually, it's 2155."

Mac looked at Phlox and Archer incredulously. Then she remembered something else, something darker. She should be dead. The WGC bastards had promised to end her life, but here she was one hundred and fifty years later and still alive. Anger rose up in her. She made a fist with her free hand and slammed it into the bed. The force shook the whole bed. "Damn them, damn them to hell," she swore. With the anger came tears, hot and wet, down her face.

"Mac, what is it?" Archer was very concerned. "What's wrong?"

Mac was now sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn't speak. The WGC had betrayed her, lied to her. They had kept her around to continue experimenting with her. Her body shook with her sobs. Archer slid out of the chair and on to the bed with Mac. He carefully pulled her into an embrace, watching that he didn't get tangled in any tubes or wires Mac was hooked up to. Mac felt herself snuggle into the Captain. She laid her head on his chest and continued to sob.

His presence was pacifying, but she needed to let the heartache out. She should be dead, not alive. Phlox watched in amazement at the tender scene in front of him. This woman, who could kill in an instant, was weeping like a small child and being comforted by the Captain. Phlox had been observing very closely the way the two responded to each other. It was confounding the doctor to no end. It didn't make any sense. He would have to run some detailed scans on both of them, when the opportunity presented itself.

Archer held Mac firmly to him. He wanted desperately to take away her pain, but he knew it would be better for her to ultimately get the emotions out than hold them in. She needed to grieve whatever loss she was feeling. Finally, the Captain sensed that Mac's sobs had quieted. He asked gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Mac pulled away just enough to look up at the Captain, but not enough to break any of the contact they had. "I don't know where to start either," she whispered through a sniffle. "Tell me more about where I am."

The Captain took a deep breath. He looked at Phlox, who nodded for him to go ahead. "You are now in the year 2155. I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship_ Enterprise_. Earth has developed ships capable of traveling faster than the speed of light, and my mission is to seek out new life on other planets and make contact with new civilizations."

Mac interrupted Archer's tale. "So humanity didn't destroy itself? When the WGC took out the Eugenics tyrants they stopped a third world war?"

Archer gave her a confused look. He realized that she wouldn't like the next piece of history he had for her. "I don't know who the WGC is, but no they didn't prevent Earth's Third World War. The Eugenics Wars started the Third World War. According to some records more than thirty million people lost their lives, in just the Eugenics Wars. Other historians put the number at closer to thirty-five million causalities. The death toll of the Third World War was around six hundred million." He felt Mac tense at his words.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Those bastards thought that they were so smart. They thought that they had the answer to all the world's problems. Instead they doomed it even more than it already was." Mac's voice had grown hard, her anger back full force.

Archer went on to the happier part of the history lesson. "True, Earth was devastated for a while, but humanity worked its way back out of the pit it had dug for itself. It was a long and difficult process, and some mistakes were made along the way, but eventually, humanity learned to work together. All the governments of Earth pledged to put aside their differences. People united to help one another. Out of the tragedy, new purpose created common goals. We have now eliminated hunger, poverty, and most disease, plus extended freedom and liberty to all the people of Earth. We've even developed better technology than we had in the past, and we even got ourselves noticed by the Vulcans."

"The who?" Mac asked.

"The Vulcans, an alien race, with whom we are now allies and friends with," Archer could tell Mac had grown more at ease again. "They have challenged us to be better people, though sometimes it felt like they were holding us back. They guided us and instructed us as we developed the ability to travel through space. They tend to be a very logical and unemotional race of people, very cautious and careful in all their actions. They saw in us great potential, but worried over the fact that humans tend to be overemotional at times. They feared we would let our curiosity outstrip our common sense," Archer couldn't believe he could say that about the Vulcans actions. At one time Archer had hated the Vulcans for holding humanity back for so long, but now looking back, maybe they had good reason to do so. "My First Officer is a Vulcan woman named T'Pol," he added.

Mac didn't know what to say. She was relieved that Earth was still here and that it was new and improved. Her heart felt like a huge chain had been broken from around it. She felt a real happiness for the first time in her life. Humanity had finally learned from its past mistakes. Maybe it was a good thing she was still alive, a blessing, instead of a curse. Tears welled in her eyes again, but not from sadness. "You okay, Mac?" Archer asked.

Mac smiled up at him. "Oh yes, Jonathan, I am now."

"Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" the Captain needed to know how she had ended up here.

Mac sat up a little, still keeping in contact with Archer, Phlox noticed. The doctor pushed a few buttons on the bio-display above Mac's bed. "My last assignment was to help the WGC bring down a Eugenic tyrant named Khan Noonian Singh. From what I can recall, it was successful. Khan was forced from power and fled. The WGC had promised me it would be my last mission. They promised to --," Mac stopped speaking suddenly.

Archer felt her tense again. The happiness had been fleeting and was now gone. She looked down and away from him. He slowly and gently placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look back up at him. "Who was the WGC?" he asked quietly.

Mac allowed the Captain to raise her chin, but she refused to meet his eyes. She looked at his chest as she spoke. "WGC stood for the World Government Coalition. They were a clandestine organization trying to defeat terrorism and the threat of the Eugenics tyrants. They were a world government hidden behind the governments of many nations. You could call them a shadow government. The general public, around the globe, never knew they existed. They worked behind the scenes, watching, controlling, and moving the pieces around, like a giant game of chess."

The Captain had read the various theories that different historians had put forth about the events that took place in early twenty-first century. Many had promoted the idea that of some sort of shadow government was at work in the world, but he had never really believed those theories, until now. "And what did they promise you?" Archer prompted.

Mac hesitated. She didn't want to say the words aloud. The Captain again used his finger under her chin to get her to look him in the eye. This time her dark brown eyes met his hazel-green ones. Both of their breaths caught in their throats. She shivered at the sincerity she saw in his, and he shivered at the indescribable emotions in hers. "What did they promise you, Mac?" he asked again, his voice a shade huskier than it had been before.

"They promised to terminate my life," she finally said it.

That was the last thing that Archer had expected her to say. "Why would they promise you that?" he asked, stunned.

"You saw what I am capable of, Jonathan," Mac said defensively. "I'm a monster, a killer. What little control I do have comes at a high price. I was at a point where it was getting harder and harder to not give into the beast inside me. The Coalition sensed it too. They agreed that if I completed the last task they had for me, they would stop me from hurting any more innocent people."

"And they were going to kill you to solve the problem?" The Captain couldn't believe it. "Couldn't they help you any other way?"

Mac tried to look away again, but Archer refused to let her. Mac didn't know if it was because Jonathan was so completely unjudgemental or just naïve, that he asked those questions. He truly had no idea of how savage she could be. It both saddened and gladdened her heart. "I wish they could have. The Corporation of Scientists tried everything to undo the barbarous part of a transgenic's nature, to no avail. I had been their greatest hope. But I too, no matter how badly I wanted to be honorable or how hard I tried to be noble, ended up submitting to the dark demon inside me."

Phlox listened to the exchange intently. She was so unlike the other Augments he had met. They were focused on power and control, without conscience and without morality. Mac had a conscience. She fought for control of her more base nature. She only wanted to help people, not hurt them. She strove to be compassionate, humane, and merciful. This was remarkable. This genetically enhanced creature was not evil, troubled yes, but not evil like the other Augments. Even after she had thrown Phlox into a wall, he knew her heart was pure.

Archer seemed to be having the same thoughts. "You're not a monster, Mac," he said earnestly. "A monster wouldn't feel sorrow because of their actions. They wouldn't be willing to die to protect someone else."

"You don't get it do you," Mac had become agitated. She had to make them see the threat she posed. She pulled totally away from Archer. "I literally have a beast living inside of me. The closest thing I can think of that it resembles is a Chimera. That's what I am," her voice had become hard and cold. "I am a predator, created to kill and destroy, and I do that very well. I even enjoy the thrill of the kill sometimes, or the rush of demolishing something. A normal human being does not enjoy tearing another human being to pieces.

"When they first created me, there were five hundred of us transgenics in existence. I am the only one our creators left alive. I was able to fight off the murderous possession that overtook the others, but only to a point. The other transgenics, my brothers and sisters, became homicidal maniacs. They killed for the pure pleasure of it. They bathed in the blood of their victims. They slaughtered everyone they came into contact with. Words like restraint or self-control, meant nothing to them. I could turn into something just like them."

Phlox was horrified at this revelation. No historical records he had read of Earth's Eugenics Wars had ever mentioned transgenics. He had thought that the Augments history was filled with bloodshed, but obviously not to the extent that the transgenics' history was. He imagined the damage Mac had done in the crystal lab ten times worse and shuddered. Phlox also tried to place the Chimera monster Mac mention into context. He vaguely remembered reading about it in some book on the study of Earth mythology, but he wasn't sure what it was. "A Chimera?" he asked softly, indicating he wanted an explanation.

Mac turned to him. Her anger burned through her. She just had to make them understand how dangerous she was. "A Chimera is from Greek mythology, Doctor. It was a mixture of different Earth animals. It had a lion's head, the body of a goat, and the tail of a snake, or dragon depending on who was writing the myth. Some even have it having more than one head. It breathed fire and ravaged the countryside, killing anyone or anything that crossed its path. It ate men, women, and children. It stalked the land, shedding blood, and leaving death and destruction in its wake, until a brave warrior named Bellerophon was able to kill her with a special spear."

The Captain remembered the myth and saw how it applied to Mac. She was a hybrid of human and animal DNA. Another story from Earth's past tugged at his brain, _The Island of Dr. Moreau_, by H.G. Wells. Dr. Moreau had been trying to cut the devil out of man by combining parts of humans with animals. He had created sentient animals, with human intelligence, but they still had their primitive instincts and tended to revert back to their animalistic selves. They became more devilish, not less. In the end they killed their creator.

There was one girl the doctor had some success with, but she was killed by other jealous creations of Moreau's. Mac was more like that girl, than the other abnormalities Moreau had created. She knew good from evil and she wanted to be good. She was more angelic, than demonic. She wasn't a demon; she was a dark angel. There was a difference.

Archer got up from Mac's hospital bed. Then he stepped toward her and delicately stroked her cheek with his hand. She slowly eased her posture again and her anger drifted away. "Let us help you. The good you still can do outweighs any danger you could pose. Medicine and science has come along way in one hundred and fifty years. Maybe that's what your creators were hoping for. Maybe that's why they put you in stasis, instead of ending your life," he pled with her. "I'll do whatever I can to help you."

Mac leaned into his hand and took in his smell. This man's smell was very masculine. He smelled earthy. He had a deep, rich, earthen smell that reassured her. There was also a salty, ocean smell to him that refreshed her. Something about this Jonathan Archer made her more content and tranquil. She didn't know what it was, but she definitely liked it, liked him. She thought she sensed he liked her too. His other hand slid across her other cheek. She felt like she was going to purr. His face wasn't far from hers. She wanted more from him.

Phlox, feeling a bit uncomfortable, cleared his throat and said, "I think we should let our patient rest now, Captain. She still needs time to fully recover from the shock her body and mind have gone through."

Archer snapped out of his trance. He let go of Mac and blushed at the thoughts that were going through his mind. Phlox was right. He needed some rest too. Phlox anticipated the Captain's next thoughts. "I will have a cot brought in for you Captain, you need your sleep as well."

"Thanks, Phlox," Archer said, and then to Mac, "We can continue our conversation later. We both need to recuperate."

Mac did feel weary. "Can I ask one more question first?"

"Sure," Archer told her.

"Who were the translucent aliens that I attacked?" she asked this almost timidly.

The Captain realized he had left out an important part of his explanation to Mac. "They are called the Vorlorens. They are the ones who actually found you in the cryo unit. It seems your secret government group built a lab on an asteroid, where they continued with their studies, probably to conceal their activities from anyone on Earth. As time went by, the asteroid drifted far away from its original position. The Vorlorens allowed us to come and see you, then to try and revive you."

"You will apologize to them for me, won't you?" Mac asked. "I am sorry that I hurt their people."

"I will convey your condolences to them," Archer responded, "and I think they will want to talk to you personally as well. We are their guests here, and unfortunately, they are fascinated with you. I won't let them hurt you in any way, but we do owe them at least a meeting. They are very interested in your DNA and want to sample and test it. Only if you are willing though, " he added.

Mac sighed. "I guess I do owe them something for the grief and trouble I caused them."

"Good, we'll arrange a meeting to properly introduce you to our hosts." Archer stroked her cheek one last time, and then said, "Let's get some rest."

Phlox decided now might be a good time to talk to the Captain about some of his concerns. "May I speak with you, Captain, in private for a minute, while I have a nurse set up a place for you to sleep?"

Archer knew this was coming and was dreading it, but he respected Phlox enough to hear him out. "Of course." He turned to Mac and said, "Excuse us for just a minute."

Mac nodded and watched, her Jonathan and Phlox step out into the hallway just outside the door to her hospital room. Mac's hearing was extremely acute, so she could eavesdrop on their conversation. She could easily pick up their voices from behind the closed door, as she just sat innocently on her bed. She was extremely curious to know what they were truly thinking about this whole messy situation. Mac also heard the heartbeat of other men outside the door. She figured there must be security guards out there as well, probably a smart move.

Phlox wasted no time in questioning his captain. "How are you feeling, Captain?"

Archer was surprised that Phlox was inquiring after his health. He thought the doctor wanted to discuss Mac and her situation. "I'm a little tired, but otherwise I feel perfectly fine. Why?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"You don't feel flushed or feverish?" Phlox asked.

"No," Archer answered a little impatiently. "What are you getting at, Doctor?"

Phlox didn't answer the Captain's question, but instead pulled out one of his portable medical scanners. As he ran it up and down in front of Archer, he asked yet another question. "How do you feel towards our patient in there?" He indicated the door behind him.

Archer glanced at the two MACO guards and lowered his voice. "I'm very concerned about her," he said sincerely.

"More than just general concern for a fellow human being?" Phlox continued to probe.

The Captain was about to snap back angrily with a denial and ask Phlox why he was running a medical scan on him, when he stopped himself. He did feel a lot more than just general concern for Mac. She was foremost on his mind, had been for days. He thought of her sweet face, her long, curly, dark hair, her dark passionate eyes, her gentle and warm touch, the smell of her skin, and her nicely proportioned curves. The Captain shook himself trying to redirect his thoughts.

"Captain?" Phlox sounded worried.

"Maybe, I do feel more than the normal amount of concern I should for her," Archer admitted. "Is that a bad thing?"

Phlox had to smile at the question. "Not at all, Captain. It is absolutely normal for a human male and female to be sexually attracted to one another ---," Archer cut him off, worried the MACOs would overhear.

"Phlox, that's not what's going on here," the Captain denied what he thought Phlox was implying. Although, a tiny voice in the back of Archer's mind whispered it was a part of what was going on.

Phlox's smile dimmed as he studied the medical scanner. "What I meant, Captain, was that if Mac was a typical human female and you were sexually attracted to her, I would think nothing of it. In fact I might encourage you to---," the doctor was cut off again.

"Is this why you called me out here?" the Captain was blushing now, deeply embarrassed. "To discuss my sex life?" He was angry at Phlox.

"You misunderstand me, Captain," Phlox explained. "The scan I just took of you shows that your pituitary gland seems to be stimulated more than normal."

Archer was now totally confused. "Why is that a concern?"

"The human pituitary gland controls most of your major hormonal output. Not just testosterone, Captain, but most of the hormones a human body needs to function properly," Phlox added the last bit when he received a nasty look from his commanding officer. "Your hypothalamus is also stimulated more than normal. These two parts of the human brain release hormones than influence almost every function, cell, and organ within the human body."

The Captain began to realize what Phlox was trying to tell him. "Those two parts of the brain control things like, body temperature, metabolism, appetite, sleep, response to stress, mood, kidney function, and sex drive."

"I am glad to see that you remember your own species' basic biology," the doctor was relieved that Archer was now taking him seriously. "I noticed earlier that Mac's hypothalamus and pituitary also showed a greater than normal stimulation, but in the opposite way yours do now. The hypothalamus detects the needs of the body and sends signals to the pituitary gland and other endocrine glands to release hormones directly into the bloodstream to meet those needs. But the hypothalamus can be influenced by emotion and changes in the environment. It relays the signals it senses from the brain, in response to those outside influences, to the pituitary gland; meaning that those influences can then be transferred on down to the pituitary gland and other endocrine glands. This, then in turn, affects the amounts of hormones released, or how those hormones ceased to be released into the bloodstream.

"Because of Mac's animal DNA, I noticed that parts of her brain function on a highly instinctual level. The levels of hormones her endocrine system pumps into her bloodstream, through her responses to her nervous system, can either be too low or too high. Her hypothalamus, pituitary gland, and other endocrine glands don't communicate with the brain the same way they would in a normal, sentient human. Although many different hormones circulate throughout the bloodstream in any human, each one should affect only the cells that are genetically programmed to receive and respond to that one hormone's message. Mac's cells seem to respond to different hormones, at different times. It is like all her cells can respond to any type of hormone, not just the hormone that a particular cell was meant to receive. She can't turn on or off the triggers for her hormone levels, like a normal human can.

"When you two were close together and touching, her levels seemed to have stabilized and appeared to be more like the levels of a normal human being. You literally have a calming effect on her, Captain. Somehow, you help balance out her irregularities. Her body chemicals come into check and work more properly. Something in her responds to something in you, which allows her to overcome her savagery."

The Captain was speechless. He knew what Phlox was saying was true. Every time he had touched Mac, she grew more peaceful, more in control of herself. "Are you saying I can tame the beast inside her?" he finally asked.

"I don't have enough data to go on yet, but I think something in your genetic makeup has an affect on Mac and her endocrine system," Phlox was amazed at his own theory.

"Do you think that something could be identified and used to help her not give into her primal nature?" The Captain's voice was breathy with excitement.

Phlox did not want to get anyone's hopes up. "It is too early to tell, Captain. I would need to get you into an imaging chamber, map your DNA, and isolate the exact sequence that might trigger the right response. It will take quite a bit of time. I need to examine Mac more closely as well."

Archer had another question. "Is the over stimulation in my systems harmful?"

"You said you felt fine, and I don't detect any problems with any of your body functions, at least not yet," Phlox said honestly.

"Problems might arise though?" the Captain inquired.

"Again, it is too early to know anything for certain." Phlox decided not to worry the Captain too much. "We know that the condition exists and I will monitor you closely. Although, the hormone levels for sexual simulation are much higher in your bloodstream than they should be," Phlox added as an after thought.

The Captain blushed furiously red now. "I'll take cold showers then and get some good sleep."

"Excellent plan, Captain," Phlox couldn't help but smile at the Captain's discomfort. Archer didn't like to feel out of control and this situation was starting to throw him for a loop. He didn't know how to deal with affecting someone else's body chemistry on such an unconscious level, or having his own affected by someone else as well. Phlox had to find out what was causing the reactions that both Archer and Mac were having. The situation had just become a whole lot more complicated than Archer could have possibly imagined. Why was it him? Why not one of the Vorlorens or another of his crew? Was it just coincidence that he and the crew of the _Enterprise_ were the people from Earth to stumble upon the genetically engineered woman and wake her? Was it just coincidence that the Vorlorens found her they way they did, by accident? Archer didn't believe in coincidences.

Phlox reopened the door to Mac's hospital room and stepped back inside. Mac, who had heard every word of the previous conversation, was pretending to sleep. She didn't want them to realize what she had heard. She finally had hope, but she didn't want to be a hazard to Jonathan's health either. She really liked him, and it had a lot more to do with emotions, than hormones. She was sure of that. As the two men came into the room, a nurse appeared with a collapsible cot, blanket, and pillow. "You asked for these, Doctor?" she said in a soft, airy voice, which seemed common to the Vorloren women.

"Thank you, Nurse Frian," Phlox said graciously, as he relieved her of her burden, then to Archer he said, "Shower and sleep."

The Captain laughed to hide his embarrassment and said, "As the Doctor orders."

TBC


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**This chapter deals with Mac meeting T'Pol and their interactions. It also thickens the plot with Romdel and the Vorlorens. Please read and review. I hope you enjoy. I tried to get the idea of Vulcan meditation down right, so hopefully I did.**

**Chapter 5**

Mac awoke from a sound sleep. It had been peaceful, and if she dreamt, the dreams had not distressed her. She knew Jonathan had slept on a cot beside her bed. Maybe that was why she had slept so well. She looked down to where he was supposed to be and started. He wasn't there. Mac felt a stab of panic. Her breath became faster, as did the rhythm of her heart.

Partly out of instinct and partly out of knowing she needed more sensory input, she sniffed the air and concentrated on the sounds around her. A strange and peculiar scent filled her nostrils and scent pads. It wasn't a sweet smell, but it had a flowerlike quality to it, maybe jasmine or orchid like. Underneath that, there was a more bitter smell, almost like copper. The aroma wasn't unpleasant, just out of place, unfamiliar. She listened carefully. She could make out the sound of soft, controlled breathing and a slow, steady heartbeat.

"I am sorry if I disturbed you," a low feminine voice apologized.

The genetically engineered solider looked around and found the voice coming from the floor at the foot of her bed. She crawled carefully to the edge and peered over. A woman in a lavender jumpsuit sat Indian-style on the floor of the hospital room. She actually sat on a silken-looking mat and had a large, red, lit candle in front of her. This woman had her eyes closed, as if she were meditating. Mac couldn't help but smile at the sight. Someone around here had the same hobby she did. Well, Mac had to admit it wasn't really a hobby, it was a way for her to cage her beast and remain sane, but it was still enjoyable. Mac also noticed that the woman had pointed ears, like an elf out of old fantasy tales.

"You're not disturbing me. You just startled me. I was expecting to find Jonathan lying there," Mac said and pointed toward the empty cot.

T'Pol raised a well-groomed eyebrow at Mac's informal use of the Captain's name. "Captain Archer had to speak with Director Romdel and a committee of Vorlorens. He asked if I would stay with you until he could return. My name is T'Pol, and I am the starship _Enterprise's_ Science Officer and First Officer."

Mac unconsciously stared at T'Pol, sizing her up. She was not a large woman. She was slender and petite. She had a confident air about her. Her light brown eyes were serious, but curious at the same time. This must be the Vulcan that Jonathan had mentioned serving with. "I am McKenna McKnight. It is nice to meet you T'Pol."

T'Pol was surprised to receive the transgenic's full name, though she did not show this emotion. She was not supposed to feel it. The Vulcan woman was expecting to hear, "Hi, I'm Mac." It was nice to know this creature had some manners after all. "How are you feeling?" T'Pol asked as she stood up from the floor.

"Much better," Mac said, stretching a little. Then she said very soberly, remembering that T'Pol had witnessed her brutal attack a few days earlier, "I'm sorry about your crewmates. I didn't mean to hurt them. I hope their families don't grieve too much for their loss."

Again, this creature surprised her. The Captain had related all of the discussion he and Mac had had about Earth's history and how Mac ended up imprisoned in the cryo unit, but T'Pol still had a hard time believing that the genetically engineered being really regretted her actions. But yet here she was feeling sorry for killing the MACOs. "They and their families understood the risks they would be asked to take on our mission. They died in battle, with honor." T'Pol sat down in the chair beside Mac's bed.

Mac was silent for a moment, understanding that what T'Pol said was a kind of acceptance of, if not forgiveness of, what she had done. It relieved Mac that T'Pol was not going to hold it against her, or judge her for it. "Were you meditating just now?" Mac asked changing the uncomfortable subject.

"I was," T'Pol answered simply.

"It's been along time since I've been able to become that focused and clear minded," Mac told her. "I learned about every mediation technique Earth could offer, back before I was put to sleep. The most calming of the techniques that I learned came from Tibetan monks and Shaolin priests from China. They taught me physical, psychological, and spiritual techniques, which if done properly, made you feel like you were reaching a higher plane of existence. The material world and all its possessions meant nothing in that state. You could focus your body's energy more positively. Emotions and troublesome thoughts could be looked at from an alternate perspective. You could find communion with beings wiser than yourself. Is that why you practice?"

The question and the depth of the understanding of the principles of meditation startled T'Pol. "Yes and no," she answered Mac. "Vulcans are dedicated to logic and reason. We strive to purge our emotions and the difficulties they bring. Meditation is a way to reach a higher plane of existence to master emotions and work out weaknesses. There is a spiritual element to it, but not quite the way you put it."

"Jonathan mentioned that Vulcans were very logical people and that you are able to detach yourselves from your emotions," Mac stated, and then asked, "Could you teach me to do that effectively?"

That was the last question T'Pol would expect from a human, let alone someone like an Augment. When T'Pol pondered the reason for Mac's request, it made perfect sense. The Vulcans had once lived in savagery and barbarism, being complete slaves to their emotions. Logic and reason had saved them from extinction as a race. Mac was desperate to overcome her primeval-self, according to the Captain, and doing so with logic and reason was a very logical way to go about that task. If teaching this genetically altered human to control her volatile emotions would promote the safety of the crew and the Captain, T'Pol would be willing to try.

"I don't see any logical reason to refuse your request," T'Pol said. "Teaching you Vulcan techniques can only adds to what you already know, and if you are sincere, their practice may help insure the safety of those around you."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Mac smiled warmly at T'Pol. "Believe me; I'm as sincere as they come. I'm a fast and dedicated learner too."

T'Pol decided it would be best to start now, as the Captain was still away and might not return for some time. This would be a good way to keep Mac preoccupied with something productive. "Would you like to begin training now?"

"That would be great," Mac responded, "Although, being attached to all these tubes and wires will hinder me a bit."

"You can stay seated on the bed," T'Pol told her, "I will join you and sit across from you on the other end. We can put the candle between us. It should be large enough not to fall over." And so it began, a Vulcan, teaching a human, how to meditate properly.

* * *

The Captain had about had it with the Vorlorens. They were asking for way too much. They not only wanted DNA samples from Mac, they wanted to clone her, or duplicate her entire genetic makeup. They desired to create an army of genetically engineered super soldiers. They refused to listen to the Captain when he warned them of the dangers and ill consequences of that kind of science. He recapped the story Mac had told him about how all the other transgenics on Earth had to be destroyed because they were uncontrollable. He also related the history of the Augments and the Eugenics tyrants. The Vorlorens brushed off his warnings. Archer wanted nothing more than to take Mac and leave the system, but he knew now in his gut that something was very wrong here and he needed to find out what it was. 

He, Romdel, and the other Vorloren secret military and science committee members were meeting in a brightly lit conference room, in a long, rectangular brick building, just to the west of the main complex at Sinova. The room had more of the Vorloren's characteristic crystal and marble furniture and decoration in it. In the center of the room was a large circular table with a bunch of plush chairs that were a charcoal-gray color. Most of these chairs were now occupied. One wall was made up almost entirely of viewing screens. The other wall had a false window with a holographic image of a beautiful summer's day set up inside it. It gave one the impression that they could walk right outside to get some fresh air and hid the fact that everyone was hundreds, if not thousands of meters down inside the ground.

Archer didn't want to out right refuse the Vorlorens, but he didn't want them to have DNA from Mac to play with either. "Why don't you start out with some simple physical tests?" the Captain suggested to the committee of eight Vorlorens and Romdel as a compromise. "Find out what she really can or can't do. Observe her actions to learn if she really has what you want." Then he turned directly to Romdel. "You saw only a fraction of what she is capable of when she was revived. Let her go through some physical exercises to show you everything she can do. There may be things you will want for your soldiers and things that you won't want for you soldiers. You need more concrete evidence to make the correct decisions."

Romdel was as frustrated as Archer was. He knew the Captain was stalling on purpose and probably had no real intention of letting his people have Mac as the blueprint for a new weapon. Oh yes, he knew that Captain Archer would never allow him to have Mac and that Archer was waiting for the right moment to pull out. But the being from the future had promised that Mac would be theirs to have. Romdel would have his genetically enhanced army, but all in good time, he realized. He would have to find a subtle way to change that, a way to speed up the process.

He would agree to Archer's stall tactics, for now. Romdel would let the Captain from Earth think his plan was working, and then Romdel would take all he wanted later, when Archer least expected it. Besides, what Archer was proposing would be helpful, and it gave Romdel the perfect idea to complete the assignment that his mysterious benefactor from the future had given him, as payment for Mac's now available DNA. It might even lessen Archer's suspicions because it would distract him.

"Alright, Captain," Romdel pretended to give in very reluctantly, "we'll do it your way, but in the end we must be able to recreate her DNA."

Archer faked a smile. "Certainly, if Mac willingly agrees to all you've outlined."

Romdel hated that Archer was treating this creature like a member of his own species. She was a lab animal, nothing more. She had no say in this, according to Romdel, but he would not say that to Archer. He wouldn't say that to the future being either. When the future being talked or asked about her it was often with some sort of affection or awe. Romdel didn't understand it, and didn't want to understand it, but he would use it against both his adversaries when the opportunity to do so presented itself.

"Yes, yes, Captain, you have made that point very clear," Romdel said, and then proceeded to set up his scheme. "I have talked with our High Monarch, and it seems he agrees with you in that he wants to proceed with caution. His chief advisor is my brother," Romdel couldn't help but boast, "and someone that the High Monarch listens to very closely. Therefore, my influence with the High Monarch is great. What I recommend is usually what the High Monarch decides is best. But in this case, they both think I am being a bit rash and are slow to see things my way. They realize what your knowledge about genetic engineering means to our people, so they requested that I give you a peace offering, a show of good faith."

Archer wasn't expecting this. "And what might that be?"

Romdel smiled his not-so-sweet smile. "You can understand that we cannot let you roam totally unescorted across the countryside, we cannot let Mac go to your starship, just yet, and we cannot keep you locked up in Sinova all the time."

"You have a solution to this problem?" Archer asked, curious now. He leaned forward in his seat.

The Captain had taken the bait that Romdel wanted him to. Now it was time to reel him in. "Yes, Captain, I do. The High Monarch has offered to let you, some of your crew, and Mac stay at his summer palace. The palace is not far from Sinova. It is located in the same range of mountains as the science lab and it is a strictly guarded facility. It has a special deflector field around it and a tiptop security system. The palace is also situated near a beautiful lake and surrounded by a pristine wilderness.

"His Majesty thinks it would do wonders for Mac's state of mind, as well as the fact that it would be a more relaxing atmosphere for you and a small number of your shipmates. We would request that we be able to run tests on Mac and run her through simulations during the day at Sinova, and then she could return to the palace in the late afternoon and evening to rest and be refreshed. I agreed with the High Monarch and my brother. It is a good conciliation to get what we all want."

The Captain had to agree. It was more than he had hoped for. He had been extremely concerned that he and his people would be trapped in Sinova, deep inside the mountain, and deep under the ground. Archer wondered if this offer was really the Vorlorens trying to work with him, or some tactic to lull him and his crew into a false sense of trust. Either way, it was a much better arrangement than being stuck in the secret government-testing center all the time. It would give him more opportunities to get help from the _Enterprise_, still in orbit around the forested moon, if he needed it.

Archer pretended to have doubts about it. "It sounds like a good bargain, but --," he was cut off by Romdel.

"Come now, Captain, we are being more than fair to you," the director pressed lightly. "We have been nothing but accommodating to you and your crew. We have even overlooked the fact that Mac killed a number of our people. It is your turn to give us something in return." Romdel wanted to make Archer feel guilty so he would agree, but he didn't want to push the human too far either.

Feigning a little more doubt, Archer responded. "You make a good point, Director. You have been more than generous to us and we have not reciprocated very well. I'll agree to your idea, as long as I or Phlox are included in any test or simulation you decide to run on Mac."

"We will make the arrangements to move to the palace immediately, or as soon as Mac is able to travel." Romdel didn't want to seem too insensitive. "I know you will enjoy your time there, Captain." Romdel was counting on that fact.

"If you will excuse me, I need to check on your guest of honor and make sure she is still recovering properly," Archer stood and turned to leave.

"I'd like to come with you," Romdel stood and turned with him. "I would like to meet her. She is our future after all."

Archer didn't like the way that phrase sounded, but he hid his disdain. "Certainly." Together, they started the trek back to level twenty-six, to the hospital section of the main complex.

Captain Archer knocked on Mac's hospital room door. It was closed, while two MACOs and two Vorloren guards stood at attention to the left and right of the door. He didn't know if she was still sleeping or not. Archer and Romdel had passed Phlox at the main nurses' station going over various data he had been collecting on Mac's condition. When Archer received no response to his knock, he quietly opened her door and peeked his head inside. He almost fell through the doorway in shock as he took in the scene he observed.

T'Pol and Mac were sitting on opposite ends of the bed with a large, red candle burning a slow, flickering flame between them. They were sitting with their legs crossed and folded on top of each other, Indian-style. They were both perfectly still and silent. Both women had their eyes closed. The room's overhead light was turned off and only light from the single candle illuminated the two figures on the bed. The Captain couldn't believe what he was seeing. After T'Pol had failed showing Trip how to properly practice Vulcan neuropressure, Archer didn't think he would ever see her try and teach another human Vulcan practices again. He had obviously been wrong.

The Captain cleared his throat semi-loudly. He really didn't want to disturb the serenity of the moment, but Romdel would not be kept waiting. "I'm sorry to interrupt your mediation ladies, but we have a lot to discuss."

T'Pol opened her eyes first. "It is quite all right, Captain. We have been engaged in meditation for several, successful hours now."

Archer's jaw dropped. If T'Pol had been the kind to smile at the Captain's surprise, she would have. "McKenna is a quick study," she said instead. "She has mastered up to two levels of Vulcan meditation. If all humans could learn these techniques swiftly and correctly, your species would be far less disagreeable." This last statement caused Archer to smile.

Mac took a deep, cleansing breath and opened her eyes. They immediately went to Archer, standing dumbstruck, just inside the door. "Jonathan, you're back," she said glad to see him.

"Hey, Mac. Or should I call you McKenna?" T'Pol had called Mac by her full given name and that fact hadn't been lost on him.

"I like Mac better," she replied. She wanted him to come closer, not just stand in the doorway. Archer seemed to sense this and walked fully into the room and right up to the bed. He did it unconsciously; he needed to be closer to her as well.

"I see T'Pol took good care of you while I was gone," Archer glanced at T'Pol with appreciation in his eyes.

"She is a marvelous teacher." Mac complimented T'Pol.

"A teacher is only as good as her student," T'Pol returned the compliment. Archer felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He needed Mac to come to trust more of his crew than just he himself. It seemed that the two women had found something in common and were becoming well acquainted. The Captain knew a bond of friendship with T'Pol would be a saving grace for Mac later, all though why, he didn't quite know.

Romdel grunted, rudely, to remind Archer that he was still standing just outside the door. "Mac, I would like you to meet Director Milo Romdel of the Vorloren Space Command. He and his people are responsible for finding you."

As the Captain introduced him, Romdel put on his best happy face and stepped all the way into the room. Seeing the super solider up close and personal wasn't what he had expected. She had been such a blur of sped in the crystal lab that he hadn't been able to get a good look at her. He had also been terrified at the time, so he hadn't noticed much more than the death she had rained down upon his guards. This human woman was very attractive.

She was very petite, not built how he had thought a genetically enhanced creature would be built. Her size must have been one of her greatest advantages. People would underestimate her threat level, if they judged her by her looks. He found her dark, curly hair pleasing. Her skin was a little dark and pink for his tastes, but she had a seductive grace about her. "Hello, milady. It is so exciting to finally meet you in the flesh. I have been anticipating this moment from the minute we discovered your existence."

"I am happy to meet you too," Mac said softly. "I am grateful you found me and have united me with people from my home world. I am very lucky."

"The Captain has told me all about the problem you had earlier," Romdel told her. "Though it was a regrettable loss of life, I and my people will not hold it against you."

Archer watched as Mac's eyes glistened with tears. He knew that she needed to hear that from Romdel, and he silently thanked the alien for having some forethought. "Thank you, Director. It means a lot to hear you say that. I don't wish any harm on your people and I'm not a threat to them." Mac's voice was thick with emotion.

"We know and understand my dear," Romdel turned on his charm. "The Captain has promised to watch over you and I trust him to do so. I hope that you will be willing to let us get a better grasp on what, and who, you are. You are so different from our own species and from what we know about yours. We would like to study you a little, but we don't want to make you uncomfortable. Would you be willing to submit to some tests and experiments to help us understand you more fully?"

Mac hesitated. She felt she owed these people something, but she didn't know if she could handle being poked and prodded once again. She also didn't like the idea of aliens gaining knowledge of making transgenics. Her creation, and the creation of others like her, had led to so much death and destruction on Earth. Mac didn't want to condemn another group of people to that fate. "I will, as long as Jonathan agrees with what you do," Mac answered, putting the Captain right in the middle. She felt bad about doing that, but she didn't know what else to do at the moment.

Archer started at the trust Mac had placed in him, in so short a time frame. He didn't want to let her down. He wanted to protect her. Now that was a funny thought - him protecting her - she was the genetically enhanced super solider. He knew he needed to protect her from herself and that he was her lifeline in this time period. She had no other person to turn to. The Captain was willing to go all the way for this woman. He would not betray her trust, even if it killed him.

Romdel anticipated Mac's hesitation. "The Captain and Doctor Phlox will oversee all we do, and we will stop at your request, anytime you wish." The last was a lie, but the humans didn't need to know that.

"Okay, I guess I'll help you however I can," Mac agreed.

"If it makes you feel any better, know that your help could aid us ending a civil war that has cost hundreds of millions of lives and has gone on for more than three centuries," Romdel tried to play on what he guessed was Mac's champion complex.

Jonathan hadn't told her about any conflict. Then again, she hadn't had a chance to really talk to him yet. At Mac's confused expression, Romdel decided to take his leave and let Archer do all the explaining. "I will let you continue to recover. The Captain can tell you about the new accommodations you will get to move to. I think it will please you considerably. I will see you again shortly. Thank you for your cooperation." With that he was gone.

"I do not trust him," T'Pol stated once Romdel was out of earshot and the door was closed to the Vorloren guards.

"I don't either," Archer said honestly.

Mac looked at him, a questioning look in her eyes. "It is a long story, Mac. One I promise to tell you when we have the time. Let's just say there is something going on below the surface of all that these people do. My superiors sent me here to figure out what is really going on here in this system. Someone is interfering with how these people are developing and it could be dangerous to Earth and its allies." Archer tried to keep it short.

"And I was the pawn to get you involved in their conflict," Mac said it as a statement, not a question.

T'Pol really appreciated this human's ability to perceive her situation. Yes, T'Pol now considered Mac a human being. "We believe you were the bait the Vorlorens have wanted to use for a while now, to snare humans into their civil war."

Mac felt slightly angry. "This situation has a very familiar ring to it. It seems that humans don't have a monopoly when in comes to treachery and intrigue."

"Your assumption would be quite correct." T'Pol now decided she needed to go as well. She needed to relieve Commander Tucker on board _Enterprise_. He had been left in charge while she had been down here on the moon. She knew the Captain had a lot to discuss with Mac, alone. She would let him fill her in later on what needed to transpire next. "I will go back to _Enterprise_," she announced and stood to leave.

"Wait, T'Pol," Archer stopped her with his voice. "I want you to pass along an invitation to the senior staff, some of the crewmen, and some of the MACOs."

"An invitation?" T'Pol asked with an eyebrow raise.

"It seems that the High Monarch of the Vorlorens doesn't want us to feel like we are his prisoners, so he has invited us to his summer palace. It is a short distance away from here. From what Romdel told me it is highly guarded, safely hidden, and has a security system that is impenetrable."

Mac couldn't help but say, "No security system is impenetrable. Someone who knows what they are doing can always find a way through one."

The Captain smiled warmly at her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"That I can hack through any security system I come across?" Mac returned.

"Yeah," he said.

"I sure can," was her quick answer.

Archer's mind reeled at the thought. If Mac could really do what she said she could do, then going to the palace would be their best bet to escape when the time came.

"That would be very helpful, my dear," the Captain said happily.

At that moment Dr. Phlox entered the room. "I was just informed by Director Romdel that we have been extended an invitation to one of the High Monarch's palaces."

"We were just discussing that invitation, Phlox," the Captain told him. "How much longer do you think Mac needs to be in here?"

"I was just coming in to remove all the tubes and wires from her," Phlox gave them all the good news. "It seems her body has totally healed itself while she slept. It appears the genetists that created her gave her cells the amazing ability to regenerate themselves at an extremely accelerated rate."

Mac decided to set the doctor straight on how she received this added ability. "It wasn't a preplanned addition to my genetic makeup, Doctor."

"Would it have anything to do with the viral signature I detected?" Phlox asked.

"Viral signature?" the Captain didn't like the sound of that. "Mac isn't sick is she?"

Mac had to smile at Jonathan's concern. It was a common misconception. "I'm not diseased and I'm not contagious," she explained, and then continued. "I was accidentally exposed to a viral agent that the Corporation of Scientists had been developing in one of their covert underground laboratories. They called it the Gen Virus or GV for short. It was originally designed to cause regeneration of living tissue at the cellular level. They thought they could market it to reduce the signs of aging or make scars magically disappear. Eventually, the Corporation wanted to use it to grow new limbs for those who had lost them, or regrow a damaged or failing organ.

"When they began testing it on live tissue, the virus mutated and changed its genetic programming. It killed the living tissue it was exposed to, and then regenerated the tissue, rewriting the tissue's DNA with its own genetic code. Let's just say the results were not pretty. The virus killed all living tissue and cells it infected, including inducing the death of brain tissue. It created zombie-like creatures out of the animals and people it was used on, bringing them back to life with very little true brain activity. The virus produced another nasty side affect. Once it had infected a host, the virus could only be passed on to a new host through blood-to-blood transfer. It wasn't an airborne virus after it mutated. To perpetuate itself, the virus became aggressive, and so it made its hosts crave human flesh and blood. It transferred to a new host through the bites and tears its zombie hosts made in their victims." Mac finished.

Phlox didn't think he could be horrified again by what human scientists had done in Earth's past, but he felt positively ill at Mac's revelation. Archer and T'Pol both gave her revolted looks. Mac had seen these reactions before. "I know it is appalling. Just remember I had nothing to do with this," she said emphatically.

"You said you were exposed to this Gen Virus. Obviously, it didn't turn you into a fleshing eating zombie." Archer couldn't believe he had just said that. "What happened after you were infected?" he added.

Mac smiled a small and amused smile. "The WGC was exceptionally worried about my exposure, at first. They thought I was a goner. But wouldn't you know that my special cocktail mix of DNA decided it was stronger than the virus' DNA? My heightened genetics rewrote the virus' mutated genetic profile and returned it more to its original purpose. My body uses the GV to help it repair itself any time it is damaged or injured, and in record time too. I can heal almost any injury or regenerate a broken bone or severed appendage very quickly. The more damage to my body, the longer the time it takes for me to regenerate, but I always do. Probably short of completely cutting my head off, causing brain death, not much can kill me. It also strengthened my immune system to fight of any other kind of pathogen. I can't be poisoned either."

The Captain looked at Mac with awe, as did Phlox. This little addition to Mac's genetics made her very different from the Augments they had dealt with previously. She was far beyond what they were. T'Pol was deeply unsettled by this new information. If Mac turned on them, she would be extraordinarily hard to slay. "And you can't give the GV to anyone?" This came from the Captain.

"Nope," Mac said instantly. "It affects me and me alone."

"Well, if Phlox says you are free and clear to be released, I say we move to the palace as soon as possible," Archer suggested, trying not to dwell on the implications of what Mac had told them.

Phlox agreed. "I don't see why not. I can have most of the equipment I need transported to the palace from here and from _Enterprise_. I still need to monitor our new friend here very closely."

"Can I make a few requests first?" Mac asked meekly.

"Of course," Archer answered her. "What is it that you need?"

Mac's stomach asked for her. It gave a loud, hungry growl. "I need something to eat, I need to use the restroom, and a change of clothes would be nice."

Phlox and Archer laughed at the simpleness of her needs. Mac had had nothing but liquid food for the passed few days and nothing for one hundred and fifty years before that. She must be starving. It was a relief to Phlox that her kidneys were doing their job as well. They also realized that, although she had been changed from the white tank top and white short shorts she had been frozen in, she must be tired of the dark gray hospital gown she was wearing. "I think we can fulfill all of those requests," the Captain said with one last chuckle. T'Pol merely shook her head in annoyance, not understanding the humor of the situation, seeing only the logic in Mac's requests.

TBC


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**This chapter deals with Mac meeting the rest of the _Enterprise _crew and their interactions. Then the action will pick up again. I hope my explanation about how warp speed works is correct. It is how I understood it, so who knows. I am trying to be fair to all the wonderful _Enterprise _characters in my story too, even though I do favor Archer and Trip. Sorry about the cliffhanger ending, but I couldn't resist. There is a little romance in this chapter as well, nothing too outlandish, but it still probably rates a T or T+ rating. Please read and review.**

**Chapter 6**

Phlox and Archer had decided to keep all of the discussions they had had about Mac, her abilities, and the effect the Captain seemed to have on her, from the Vorlorens for the time being. They would reveal only a little at a time, and only bits and pieces of Mac's true potential. The Captain needed some ace up his sleeve, some advantage in this situation, or the Vorlorens would dominate them. Archer was not about to let them have the upper hand on him. He wanted the Vorlorens to need him and his crew's expertise for as long as possible, because once they weren't needed, they'd be expendable.

The High Monarch's summer palace was stunning. It was made out of a white brick, much like granite from Earth. It was combined with rich marble. It reminded Reed of a medieval English castle with turrets, towers, a huge drawbridge complete with a moat, a strong looking defensive outer wall, and a massive throne room. There were over seventy different rooms, including a dining area, kitchen, something akin to a parlor, a music room, an extensive library, and an atrium, along with an indoor garden. The tapestries that hung on the walls, on stairways, from balconies, and from windows, were all gold and dark blue with a circle containing a plus sign inside it. Hoshi commented to her crewmates that on Earth, that was a symbol for the four directions: east, west, north, and south. It must have had some significance to the High Monarch.

The inside was decorated with more crystal ornamentations. The artwork seemed very impressionistic. The carvings in the wood were elegant and very refined. The medieval feel was disturbed, Trip thought, by the use of very modern electronic equipment. Computer terminals, large viewing screens, sonic showers, food replicators, automated doors and windows, a sophisticated ESP power grid, and more dominated the castle. Each level of the palace had several balconies revealing dazzling views of the forested hills and deep blue lake that surrounded the massive structure. On one of the middle levels, a balcony went all the way around the palace, allowing access to a panoramic view of the countryside.

The bedrooms were luxurious. Each had a king size, canopied bed, with lush velvety and silky curtains raining down the side of the canopies. They could be tied off for more openness, or hung loosely for more privacy. Each bedroom had its own color scheme, mixing two like-minded colors with the black and white of the marble mineral making up most of the building material. The bedrooms also had marble desks, dressers made out of some kind of polished dark wood that was almost black, enormous walk-in closets, soft, plush couches and chairs, and vanities with glossy mirrors. The rooms even had open fireplaces for extra warmth on cold mountain nights. They were more like a suite of rooms, than just one self-contained room. Every bedroom came with a set of beautifully crafted crystalline, double doors that led out on to a balcony, like the ones the group had seen as they came up to the palace.

The bathrooms were equally as nice. Each had a sonic shower that used special sound waves to gently remove dirt and grime from the body in the shower. They also had a gigantic whirlpool bath, which seemed to use good old-fashioned water to clean oneself with. The sinks were marble with golden fixtures. The tile was sparkling clean. The colors, like most of the bedrooms, were black and white from the marble, then mixed with some other color scheme.

The palace was truly fit for royalty, and the _Enterprise_ crew, along with Mac, were quite overwhelmed by the sheer brilliance of it all. Even the chandeliers glistened with the beauty of the crystal they were made out of. This was definitely an improvement over the science complex, although the underground facility had its own kind of twisted beauty too.

Mac dropped her bag in the room she had chosen as her own. Its color scheme was burgundy and a light shade of forest green, mixed with the white and black of the marble. She usually went for straight black, but something about this place influenced her to pick something more upbeat and girly. The bed was adorned with silken pillows of all shapes and sizes. They followed the tranquil feel of the burgundy and light forest green color scheme, as did the canopy, curtains, and carpet. This was even fancier than one of Khan's palaces. Now where did a thought about that bastard come from? Mac suddenly had a flashback of a very intimate moment with the Eugenic tyrant. It rolled over her mind as if it were a wave, washing through her entire body like a tide of pleasure; she thought she had long since forgotten. She had to lean against a bedpost to keep standing. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her throat.

As suddenly as it had come, it was gone. Mac stood quietly, trying to redirect her thoughts and regain her composure. Using one of the techniques T'Pol had taught her, she struggled to gain control over her train of thought. She took deep, calming breaths and focused her attention on a large vase of flowers in front of her. Directing her thoughts toward the vase allowed her mind to stop focusing on Khan and the responses he could elicit from her.

That was a very strange experience. Why she would flashback to something like that now, and have it affect her so strongly, physically, mystified her. She didn't like that it came out of nowhere and so unconsciously. She hated Khan. He was her enemy. True she had played the role of his lover for a time, but she had tried to keep herself detached as she completed her mission. Her dark side, however, had enjoyed every minute of the time she spent in his arms.

"I see you picked a really colorful room," Jonathan's voice startled her. She had been so consumed by the sensory memory, that she had been completely unaware of his presence. That was bad. She usually had better focus than that and was much more attentive and alert. Something wasn't quite right with her. "I thought you would pick something to go along the same lines as the outfit you decided to wear," the Captain added to his previous statement.

Mac had picked out, from the myriad clothes the Vorlorens' personal assistants had laid out for her, a tight fitting black, leather tank top with a round, low neckline, and a pair of matching tight, black, leather pants that hung a little low on her hips. The leather top came down so that it barely covered her belly button. The pants began just below where the tank top stopped, leaving a sliver of skin showing. The pants had tiny, crisscrossed cutouts down the legs where an outside seam normally would have been. It gave her a tough, warrior look, but it was also a very sexy, feminine look. Archer couldn't quite help but glance at her lithe figure as often as possible.

The Captain noticed that Mac was a little out of sorts. "You okay?" he asked as he came to stand behind her. She was still holding on to the bedpost with her back to him, starring at the vase of dark mauve flowers.

"Uh, yeah," she managed to say, without her voice sounding too husky.

"You sure?" Archer was inches from her now, his worry evident.

Mac wanted nothing more than to turn around and relive the memory she had just had about Khan, with her Jonathan. It was funny how she kept thinking of him as hers. She fought with all her might to keep from facing him. When she didn't answer him, Archer placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Mac suddenly felt more relaxed, the passion was still there, but it was different, not as primal. "I, uh, um, I just got a little dizzy," she lied quickly. "It's passed now."

"No, it's something else," the Captain's voice had now grown throaty. He felt the same pull she did.

He allowed his arms to wrap around her waist, crossing them in front of her, and letting them settle gently against her stomach and hips. This allowed him to pull her closer to him. Mac leaned back into his chest and let him support her weight. Her arms came to rest over his. One of her hands traced up his arm to his elbow and back down again, very lightly, like a soft breeze. It was nice to feel skin against skin. Mac was glad he had changed out of his navy blue Starfleet uniform into some causal beige pants and a rusty, brown, short-sleeved shirt. The shirt had subtle horizontal strips running through it, making it almost appear ribbed. His arms were bare because of this change of clothing, and thus accessible to her touch.

Her head rested just the right way on his shoulder. Mac breathed his earthen smell in thoroughly. Archer tenderly brushed his lips across the top of her left temple. The movement caused her to snuggle further into him. He breathed in the smell of her hair, freshly cleaned from a shower she had taken. He then nuzzled the back of her neck, butterfly- like, with his nose and lips. Both were experiencing a contentment that neither one had ever known before. It was nice to hold and be held, to touch and be touched. A serene silence had overcome them. No movement they made was hurried or rushed.

Director Romdel watched it all from the outside of the double-doors to Mac's room, out on the balcony. He had come to have them meet some of the palace staff, but when he saw the Captain and the transgenic together, in their affectionate, backward embrace, he had hesitated, and stayed just out of sight. He could only see their profiles, but the amorous way they held each other was very plain to see. Romdel was transfixed. It was happening just like his mysterious benefactor from the future said it would. Archer and the super solider were attracted to each other and cared for one another deeply. All Romdel needed to do was make it possible for them to spend a lot of time together and nature would take its course. At least that's what the being from the future wanted to have happen.

Purposely in bad taste, Romdel threw open the double doors and loudly stomped into the room, just as the pair of humans' lips began to touch. "Ahhhh, Captain, Mac, there you are!" he all but shouted. Archer and Mac broke apart as if each other had been hit by lightning. Both of their cheeks were burning with a harsh redness. Romdel knew he had embarrassed them, and was delighted at the prospect. He had to have some fun with this assignment, didn't he?

"Director, we didn't realize you were out there," the Captain managed to say with a little dignity.

"I am sorry if I interrupted anything," Romdel lied, grinning like the Cheshire cat, "but I have been looking all over for you two. I need to introduce you to the High Monarch's palace caretakers. They will be the ones that will service all of your needs." Romdel let his grin turn suggestive as he spoke.

The Captain, still recovering from the spell Mac had put him under, failed to notice. "That sounds like a good idea. We should find the rest of my people and have them come along as well."

"That's what I have been trying to tell you, Captain," Romdel continued to smirk. "We're all waiting for you and Mac."

Archer grasped for words, "Oh, well, we're, um, we're sorry. We didn't realize we were keeping anyone waiting. We're ready to meet your associates now."

"They are not associates of mine, Captain," Romdel informed him haughtily. "They are servants of our Supreme Ruler."

The Captain didn't like the way Romdel put that statement. It was conceited and condescending. "After you then," Archer said a bit briskly.

Mac followed the two men out of her chosen bedroom and down the hall. Her embarrassment was still hot on her face. She couldn't believe that she had lost herself so completely with a man she just met. The beast within her roared its outrage at the premature separation. It liked Archer as much as Mac did. Mac often separated herself from her Chimera, even though they were one in the same person. It helped her to think of herself as two distinct entities, one, the angel, and the other, the demon. The fact that both sides of her personality felt the same way about Jonathan confused her. The two parts didn't often agree. Mac didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After several more hallways and a few stairwells, Romdel and his two shadows ended up in the parlor. It had huge bay windows looking out on to the crystal clear lake. The furniture consisted of large posh couches in deep browns and blacks, a few single, high-backed, dark wooden chairs, some lavish loveseats, a few marble tables, and a large viewing screen on one wall. The floor was a dark hardwood with a variety of colorful and decorative rugs lain out on it. A couple of impressionist Vorloren paintings hung on another wall. They were full of passion and swirls of color.

The Captain noticed as he walked in that Trip, Hoshi, Phlox, T'Pol, Mayweather, and Reed where all assembled in the room. They were spread out around the area talking to various Vorlorens and each other. A group of MACOs also congregated throughout the room. He and Mac were the last ones to the gathering it seemed. Archer tried to push the incredible feelings for Mac to the back of his mind and put on his best look of indifference. The Captain didn't, however, miss the tensing in Reed when his tactical officer saw Mac come into the room. The Lieutenant still hadn't gotten over the fear she had instilled in him. She had almost ripped out his throat and she had killed some of his shipmates.

Before Romdel could begin his introductions Archer called Reed over to him. "Malcolm, come here a minute, would you?"

Mac recognized Reed's scent immediately. It was almost like gunpowder. She knew he was the one Jonathan had called his friend and the one he had talked her out of killing. The shame she felt at seeing him again knew no bounds. He must hate her. She couldn't blame him. She had intended to end his life. When Jonathan called the man over to him, Mac froze. She stayed at a distance from the Captain and his friend. She did not want to spook him, or herself. The beast inside her could smell the man's fear and it flexed its phantom claws in anticipation of drinking in that fear.

"Sir?" Reed asked warily, carefully eyeing Mac's position behind the Captain. Reed had not moved toward his captain at all.

Archer tried again. "I need to talk to you, Malcolm. Come over here, please," he said it more like an order than a request.

"About what, sir?" The Lieutenant took a few steps forward. The Captain noticed that Reed too had shed his uniform and was wearing a light blue sports jacket with matching pants, and a white dress shirt.

"I think you need to talk to Mac," the Captain didn't beat around the bush. "She isn't a threat to you anymore, and she feels horrible about what happened. It would do you both some good to talk about it and get passed it." Archer took a breath and then charged forward with what he had to say, before Reed could argue. "We talked about this at length Malcolm, and you agreed to at least try. She needs us more than ever right now. We will all have to work closely with her, especially you, as my Chief of Security."

Reed knew his Captain was right, but he looked at Mac standing perfectly still behind Archer and was unsure. Her head was down and she appeared to be as uncomfortable as Reed felt. Was she as redeemable as the Captain believed or was she some terrible monster they had released upon the galaxy? He had felt that monster's breath on his neck as it prepared to kill him. He had also seen the beauty the woman possessed. Hell, her knockout form was right in front of him. Finally, Reed decided he would make an effort, for his Captain. "The Captain explained to me what happened a few days ago, when you were revived. I am grateful that you listened to him." It was all he could bring himself to say. Mac picked up on his British accent right away.

She finally met his gaze. Her dark eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Nothing I can say can make it better, Malcolm," she said softly, calling him by his given name, the name Jonathan had used. "I am glad your Captain got through to me too." The tears slid down her cheeks, yet she made no crying noise.

Reed wasn't expecting the earnest sorrow. Most Augments he had met didn't care one way or another how many people they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Maybe the Captain's faith in this woman wasn't misplaced after all, but it would take more than mere tears to give the tactical officer reason to trust her completely. Reed would take the olive branch, for now, but he would watch her carefully. The monster within her would not hurt those he had pledged to protect again. "Let's start over shall we," he said, forcing his fear back, as he extended his hand.

"I'd like that," Mac said with relief and took his offered hand and shook it. Her beast was disappointed as the smell of fear faded. "I know it isn't easy for you make the offer, but I promise it won't be in vain. I swear I will not hurt you or any of your shipmates again." The demon inside her laughed at the statement at first, but Mac knew it would be a promise she would keep, no matter what. She cemented it in her soul, and she knew one instinct that her beast would understand almost as well as the human part of her did, the need to belong, to be part of a group. Being a loner was convenient and some times necessary, but not preferred. The beast craved to be part of a pack, just as much as the human craved to have friends.

She needed the Captain and his crew to adapt to this new reality she found herself in. She had to rely on them and they would need her help too. They were the only part of humanity she had knowledge of. Their alpha male had accepted her. She, as an alpha female, would be called upon to protect them. It was a natural law. The crew of the _Enterprise _would be under her protection, and thus her beast would not be able to hurt them, unless they hurt her. These people were her pack now. They had accepted her as their own, and she would never hurt her own, ever. Being part of a pack meant you looked out for one another. As the feral part of her nature realized this, it committed to the promise Mac had just made, just as strongly as the saintly part of her had committed.

The insight she was having into her primal self must have come from the Vulcan meditation that T'Pol was teaching her. Mac was learning to come to terms with her primitive instincts and overcome them by integrating them with her logical mind. Attempting to get her thoughts to control her emotions and not letting her emotions control her thoughts was proving to be difficult, but it was putting her in touch with her beast on a new level. Her fear of it was waning. The understanding of what truly motivated her beast was starting to emerge from the darkness. Mac hoped it would continue. There were aspects of her beast that could serve her well, that she hadn't been cognizant of before. She was also learning that trying too hard to cage her beast sometimes made the situation worse. She considered it necessary to discover how to let it out in the open, without totally losing control, if that was even a possibility.

Reed slowly let go of Mac's hand. She smiled, a simple honest smile at him, and he felt compelled to return it. At this point, Trip chose to introduce himself to the transgenic woman. "Hi there. I'm Commander Charles Tucker III, Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_, at your service. My friends call me Trip." His southern accent made Mac laugh. She hadn't heard anything that familiar in a long time. "Did I say somethin' funny?" He asked confused.

Mac laughed again and then replied, "No, Trip. It's just nice to hear your accent. It reminds me of home. I knew many people from the South." She inhaled his scent as she spoke, identifying him. He smelled like the bayou - not the swampy smell - but the lush green, outdoorsy smell it had. As a part of her brain analyzed it, she thought it was more like being around a river when it is rushing downstream, or like the smell right after rain, fresh and invigorating. Trip was dressed in light gray slacks and a white shirt with grays strips that ran diagonally from his shoulders to meet in a "V" in the middle of his chest.

"Well," Trip laid the accent on extra thick for Mac's benefit, "I'm glad someone 'round here appreciates it."

The small group, including Reed, all joined in with laughter of their own. Hoshi in a simple, sleeveless, red dress that came up in a "V" to fasten around her neck, and Mayweather in black pants and a white button down shirt, made their way over to this jovial part of the room. T'Pol in a white version of her normal uniform and Phlox in an olive green tunic and pants were speaking with Romdel, letting him get on with some of his introductions. "Mac, I'm Ensign Hoshi Sato, the Communications Officer for _Enterprise_. It's nice to finally meet you, " Hoshi said to introduce herself.

Mayweather spoke up too. "Likewise. I'm Ensign Travis Mayweather. I man _Enterprise's_ helm."

That got Mac's attention. "You pilot the spaceship?" she asked fascinated.

"It's a starship, and yes I do." Travis corrected her gently. "It really is the best job aboard the ship. _Enterprise_ is the pride of Starfleet. The fastest ship Earth has. We can go up to Warp 5, but sometimes we have pushed her a little beyond that."

"Yeah, thanks to my fancy engineerin' skills," Trip interrupted.

Mac couldn't help but laugh again. It felt good. "Warp 5?" she asked. "I don't understand that measurement."

_Oh no, _thought Reed, _Don't let Tucker get started on the engines._ They'd be here all night. But Reed didn't speak up soon enough and Trip launched into his favorite subject, the warp engines. "Warp speed is the ability of a ship to travel through space by means of faster-than-light propulsion. A warp bubble is created and allows the ship to be propelled through space without any time dilation. Meaning, you're movin' and groovin' faster than light can travel, but time remains constant for you. You follow?"

Mac did follow, but she wondered where the massive amount of power needed to create a stable warp field could come from. "What powers it?"

Trip was delighted to explain. "A special warp core, or reactor is used. It utilizes matter and anti-matter to generate the energy sufficient enough to power the warp drive."

Mac had to stop him with another question. "Isn't that dangerous? I thought that matter and anti-matter caused a devastating explosion when allowed to react. They annihilate each other on contact. I can see how the reaction generates enormous amounts of energy, but how can you control it?"

"We use dilithium crystals to regulate the reaction of the matter and anti-matter," Trip told her, enthralled that he not only had an interested audience, but a smart one too. "The dilithium crystals are nonreactive to anti-matter when they are bombarded with high levels of radiation. They control how the matter and anti-matter mix. Deuterium, an isotope of hydrogen, and antideuerium are usually used to create the reaction. They are put into a reaction assembly that is surrounded by a magnetic field. That prevents any anti-matter from escaping and causing unwanted reactions with other matter outside of the reactor. The energy generated by the reaction is then transferred into a highly energetic form of plasma.

"The plasma then journeys to a warp nacelle through magnetic conduits. Special warp coils that create the warp bubble, receive the highly energized plasma through injectors. When the bubble expands space behind the ship and contracts space in front of the ship, a warp barrier is formed between the two distortions. The bubble is accelerated, while the space inside the bubble isn't, so time passes inside the bubble normally, while the ship flies through space." That was Trip's big finish.

Mac couldn't believe it. It was so simple, yet so complex. She was amazed that humanity had progressed so far. "Wow," was all she could say.

"Yeah, it is pretty impressive if you ask me," Trip said, "But the real genius was the guy who invented _Enterprise's_ Warp 5 engine."

"And who was that?" Mac asked.

"My father, Henry Archer," came the soft reply from the Captain. He had been enjoying standing back and letting his crew become acquainted with Mac. But when Trip mentioned the Warp 5 engine, he couldn't let the engineer be the one to tell Mac about his father.

Mac was astounded. "Your father?" So, that's how Jonathan became a starship captain. He was following his father's dream. She liked that idea.

"Yeah, he spent years designing and building it." The Captain's voice was suddenly sad. "It was a shame that he never got to see it in action."

"Why didn't he?" Mac asked, but she felt she already knew the answer.

"He died before _Enterprise _was launched," Archer said it simply, but Mac sensed something else in his words, a slight bitterness perhaps. "But he would be overjoyed to know that a second starship is now using his engine, a sister ship to _Enterprise_, the _Columbia_."

Mac slid her hand into Archer's, squeezing it gently. "I'll bet he'd be extremely proud of his son too." The Captain gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand back. They both stared at each other for a heartbeat and then refocused on the others around them.

"I would hope he'd be, but sometimes I don't think so." It was now Archer's turn to not want to meet Mac's gaze. Some of the things he had done or the choices he had made since he had become Captain ofthe _Enterprise_, he was not proud of. He knew his father would have profoundly disapproved of quite a number of his son's actions.

"Now why is that?" Mac bobbed around trying to get her Jonathan to look at her. She perceived that he had seen and been through a lot in his life, and not all of it was pleasant. He had some demons of his own. That was strangely comforting to Mac. He did not answer her. Instead he looked into her eyes and she saw his raw pain reflected in them. She got the impression it was a pain he hid from most people. The others had sunk into a hesitant silence. Romdel irreverently broke it.

"Finally, I get a chance to introduce you all to His Majesty's servants," he said, sounding very put out. Archer rolled his eyes and Mac hid a smile behind her hand. "There are four main head caretakers that you should all get to know. First, we have Orlin. He is the High Monarch's best chef." At the sound of his name, a little man with a round belly stepped forward and bowed. He was middle aged, with light brown hair that contained streaks of gray. His translucent skin seemed to glisten as he moved. Maybe it was the white of his chef's outfit that made his skin appear that way.

"Next we have, Aurlense, the High Monarch's best domestic engineer," Romdel said the last word with a sneer. The plump, translucent woman with red hair was no more than a housekeeper to Romdel, but she kept the High Monarchs personal household running in tiptop shape. She was dressed in a simple blue dress with a white apron.

"Then there is Manso, who is his Majesty's Chief Footman." Again, Romdel thought of this thin, tall, and balding man with a few whisps of white hair here and there, as just a butler. He wore a well-tailored, dark blue suit, with a short waistcoat. "And, lastly is Muriel, the Head Groundskeeper." A tall and lanky blonde woman curtsied at the sound of her name. She was a mere gardener, but the High Monarch liked what she could do to the flora and fauna of his kingdom. She had on what almost looked like a horse riding out fit, complete with knee high boots. "These four are in charge of the other various servants you will see from time to time. You are to check in with them and let them meet your needs. They will attend to whatever you desire while you are here."

"You forgot to mention me," a tall and broad middle-aged man said as he came through the door into the parlor room.

"You're late, Aster," Romdel said as he visually bristled.

The middle-aged man with military short, black hair, and dressed in a gray and black Vorloren military dress uniform was not deflected. "And so that merits a non-mention? Come now Milo, that is just plain rude of you."

Archer and Trip exchanged mutual amused looks. It appeared Romdel couldn't push everyone around. "I don't have time for your games, Aster," Romdel huffed.

"And I don't have time for yours, sir," Aster added the last word without any respect behind it. "I apologize for my tardiness ladies and gentlemen. I am Chief of Security, Aster Suran. I am in charge of palace security while you are our guests here. If you need to travel the grounds, need transportation from or to the palace, need to communicate with your vessel, or need to travel to and from your vessel, you must clear it through me. The deflector field around the palace and its grounds prevents transportation devices from getting a solid lock and it scrambles any communication signals. It also keeps out any unwanted vessels. I can have the field deactivated or recoded to accommodate your needs. It serves to protect the palace from attack."

Reed knew this was one Vorloren he needed to be affable with. He would either be a great help or a huge hindrance, depending upon how the _Enterprise_ crew approached him. The Captain shared Reed's view of the alien. "We appreciate your thoroughness and will do our best to comply with your instructions."

"Thank you, Captain Archer," Aster said this time with respect in his voice. "My job is to keep you safe from harm, as well as the people who work here in the palace. As long as you work with me, we should have no problems."

Archer liked this man. He had a no nonsense attitude and seemed truly dedicated to his job, which could be good or bad for the Captain and his crew. "I couldn't agree more, Chief Suran."

Romdel was not pleased with the situation. Aster was excellent at his job and he ran a tight ship, but he was too much of an independent thinker for Romdel's taste. He bucked the system when he thought it was wrong. He and Archer were too much a like, and that worried Romdel. He would have to see if he could have the High Monarch replace Aster with someone more loyal to himself. He didn't want to be constantly at odds with the security chief. He needed someone he could control. Someone he could have his thumb on.

"Well, I'll let you mingle and enjoy the palace and the pleasures it provides," Romdel told them as he walked to the door. Then he added, speaking to Mac, "We would like to start with your examinations in a day or two. I will be contacting you when we are ready."

Mac still didn't like the idea of being under the microscope, but she had agreed to it. "Alright. I'll wait to hear from you."

"Thank you, my dear." Romdel bowed to her and was gone.

Aster looked the group over. They were the most fascinating species he had met yet: confident, but not overbearing, kind, but not gullible, powerful, but not arrogant. Maybe they really could help stop this useless war from continuing. They might be the ones the people of Vorlora had been searching for all this time. He would observe them closely and hopefully find out.

Now he decided to introduce them to the most beautiful sight on Quantima, the sunsets. "Captain, if you would like, you and your party can step out onto the balcony in a few minutes. The balcony on this level goes all the way around the palace. The sun will be setting and it is a spectacular sight. There are a few clouds out there, so the show should be very pleasing to the eye."

Archer thanked the security chief. He would take him up on the offer. It had been a long time since he and his crew had seen a real sunset. One didn't see many in blackness of space. T'Pol spoke, "I would like to view this sunset and then I will go relieve Major Rollins on board _Enterprise_." The Captain had left the commander of the MACOs in charge of the ship. T'Pol felt one or more of the senior staff should be up there in case of some emergency or problem, and the Captain's presence was required to be on the planet, around Mac, at all times. She didn't think it was wise to have them all down on the moon at one time like this either. They could spell each other off, so they could all enjoy the palace environment, just not all at the same time.

Hoshi engaged Mac in conversation again. The genetically engineered woman intrigued her. "So, what do you think of the future?" she asked as starting point.

"Honestly, I'm a little overwhelmed," Mac replied. "One hundred and fifty years is a lot to miss out on. I have some real catching up to do." Boy, did she ever.

Hoshi had been hoping Mac would mention something about that problem, because she had a solution for it. "Well, you're in luck," she said and continued quickly when Mac frowned in confusion at her. "Since you can't go up to _Enterprise_ yet to delve through our historical databases, technical manuals, or the Vulcan database, I came up with a way to bring them to you. I'll have to get permission from Chief Suran, but I have rigged up a number of PADDs from _Enterprise_, with a communicator and the ship's com system. That way you can access the _Enterprise's_ computer whenever you are in the mood to do some reading. You can download just about anything from _Enterprise _to the PADDs."

"What's a pad?" Mac asked.

"Not pad, PADD. It stands for Personal Access Display Device," Hoshi explained. She paused for a minute trying to think of a twenty-first century equivalent that Mac could relate to. Her brain came up with one. "It would be like an old style, wireless, laptop computer."

Mac didn't know what to say. Hoshi had anticipated her deepest desire, to learn more about Earth and this time era. "Thank you, Hoshi. I am incredibly grateful."

"Not a problem," Hoshi smiled at having done a good deed. "I just wanted to help out." Hoshi had another question. "Were you trained to learn different languages? I have to often learn the languages of many of the new species we meet, because the Universal Translator is still a pretty new technology, and it doesn't always work. I am trying to design a lingual matrix to overcome the problems, but it's slow going." Hoshi asked because she had read in some historical records that an Augment's superior intellect allowed them to learn vast amounts of information very quickly. She was curious to know what kind of enhancements Mac had been given in that area.

Mac smiled knowingly at the communications officer. Hoshi must have a love of languages, and obviously a good ear for them too. It was good to know that humanity was still producing geniuses naturally. "Before I was cryogenically frozen, I had mastered sixty-one different Earth languages, ranging from European languages like French, Italian, German, then on to languages like Chinese, Arabic, Swahili, Tongan, Haitian, Navajo, and so on, just to name a few. I learned many of the different dialects in each language as well."

Hoshi's mouth fell open at Mac's statement. She, herself, knew just over forty different languages from around the galaxy. She was a protégé when it came to learning and speaking languages. To have another person from Earth to share that talent with was exciting to say the least. "I have a special gift when it comes to figuring out how to speak and read new languages, but I know of very few people that can do what I do. How are you able to learn so many?"

"Probably much the same way you do, the only difference with me is I can do it with everything I need to learn, not just linguistic skills," Mac said, glad for Hoshi's interest. "I have a photographic memory. It records anything that my senses pick up and I can access most memories fairly easily when they are needed. I hear a language spoken for long enough, or if I study one long enough, it gets decoded, and then recorded, and I just go from there. I also have the ability to take in a lot of sensory input, sometimes from multiple sources at one time, and process through it, pull out what I need, imprint it, learn it, and then use it."

"You can do that with any topic or skill?" Hoshi asked flabbergasted.

Mac nodded, and then replied, "Yep."

"So, if you needed say, the skills to treat a wounded man on the battlefield, you could have them?" Hoshi pressed for more detail.

"I would need some reference point first," Mac explained. "Like reading a medical journal on the type of wound and its treatments, or a doctor or nurse to show me how to perform the proper procedure once, or even someone to verbally explain it once. Then I could learn and adapt myself to do it."

The Captain had been listening to the whole conversation. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He really needed to talk to Mac and find out what exactly went into her genetic makeup and what skills and abilities she really had. The science that created her seemed to be very different from that of the Eugenics Augments at every turn. She possessed some of the same capabilities those Augments had, but it seemed that she was able to go way beyond most of their capabilities. Archer made a mental note to himself to never let Doctor Arik Soong know of Mac's existence. The good doctor would have a field day trying to figure her out and duplicate her, to "improve humanity". Luckily, the brilliant, but criminally insane doctor was locked safely away in prison. "Let's step outside, so we don't miss the sunset," the Captain verbally prodded his people to move to the outdoors.

As the group began to migrate to the balcony, Hoshi continued to question Mac. "Do you think you could learn how to pilot a starship, or learn to run the engines?"

"I don't know," Mac said honestly. "I was designed in a time era before all of that, but I might, if I had enough information to draw from and enough time to study it all out."

"Let's worry about that later," Archer said as he gently grabbed Mac's hand and led her out onto the balcony and down around the corner. He didn't want to dwell on the implications of that conversation right now. The sun was setting in the west, similar to the way it did on Earth, and to see it set, one had to walk to the other side of the palace. The lake seemed to stretch around the palace as well. It was always in sight as they walked along the balcony's path. Smaller, rolling hills ran out to the western horizon. Massive mountains stood behind the hill line on the north and east. The trees were all different sizes and colors. Some were extremely tall and others were fairly short. Leaves on the trees appeared to be different shapes depending on the tree. Some were round, some diamond-shaped, others were oval, and some were needle-like. Those reminded Mac of pines trees back on Earth.

She and the Captain arrived on the western side of the palace just in time to see the sun starting to dip behind the small hills in the west. Aster had been correct when he had mentioned that a few clouds would be in the sky. A high band of wispy clouds filled the western section of the skyline. As the sun set, it cast its brilliance up into these clouds, causing them to appear to burn. The sky turned deep shades of orange, pink, and gold. It was as if a painter had accidentally spilled jars of paint across the sky. The myriads of pinks rippled out into the oranges, and bled into the gold. Mac looked behind her at the mountains to the east. The sunset cast a purple glow upon them.

The whole scene mesmerized her. It almost felt like she was home, on Earth. It was striking and very moving. As the sun continued to sink into the horizon, the colors became even more dazzling. The orange turned to red, the gold to amber, and the pink to chartreuse. Archer took in the splendid beauty and sighed. He felt transcended, more alive than he had in a long time. He glanced at Mac and did a double take. The amber light of the sun was reflecting in her eyes. They appeared as he has first seen them, when she was in her feral mode. They didn't glow, but they had an eerie inner light. The dark pupils were slightly dilated and the colored part of her eye was wolfen amber. He couldn't shake the inhuman look it gave her, but it wasn't fear he was feeling right now.

"That's incredible," Trip commented. "I thought Earth had pretty sunsets, but this place has them backed off the map."

"Vulcan has nothing like this either," T'Pol said in response to the awe she too felt. Vulcans did know how to appreciate beauty.

"I can see where they get the inspiration for their paintings," Reed added his two cents.

Hoshi had to agree. "Yeah. I don't think I have ever seen colors so bright and full of passion before."

Mayweather just kept staring, unable to speak. Phlox had his ridiculously huge smile on his face. "I must say this is something new for me as well," he said.

Mac noticed Archer staring at her. It was a very intense stare. She felt tingles move up her spine, one vertebra at a time. She could almost taste the desire in him. As she moved closer to him, she caught the scent of something very strange. It wasn't Vorloren. The Vorlorens had almost an ammonia smell to them. This smell was more like a sickly-sweet, burnt sugar smell. None of the humans or Vorlorens she had had contact with smelled like this. It instantly alerted her to danger. It didn't belong here.

Mac broke away from the Captain and followed the scent, trying to find where it became stronger. Archer and his crew stared at her in confusion. What was she doing, sniffing the air? The transgenic continued to follow the scent back around to the north side of the palace. Here the lake was farther back from the palace and forest lead right up to its walls. Down below were footpaths leading off in several directions into the woods. The smell was coming from down there. The breeze was bringing it right up to her. She accessed her others senses.

She allowed her eyes to unfocus themselves and then she dilated her pupils like a camera lens. Mac literally zoomed the distant surrounding forest, shoreline, and lake into focus as if it were right in front of her. The hawk DNA was at work. She also turned on the night vision her leopard DNA gave her. She scanned slowly through the trees. The genetically enhanced woman spotted strange small mammals, a few reptiles, and several weird looking insects, but nothing to account for the sickly-sweet, burnt sugar smell.

Mac continued to survey the land before her. Archer had come up next to her as she leaned against the balcony railing. "What is it Mac?" he asked very concerned. He watched her eyes as they focused very oddly.

"Shhhh!" she whispered harshly. She was tuning in her acute hearing to try and find the source of the smell. Mac made out the sounds of the small mammals burrowing through the underbrush, the rustle of the reptiles running through the brushes, and the clicking noises of the insects, but she heard nothing to go along with the smell. She was trying to hear a heartbeat. She even heard the rattle of the light breeze through the trees.

Then she saw it, a glimmer of movement in her peripheral vision. It seemed to come from deep in the forest. It was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. It was the source of the disturbing smell. Without thinking, Mac bounded up and over the balcony railing to go after her prey. The only problem was that she was now in for a thirty-five meter drop to the ground.

TBC


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**I used a song from Evanescence in this chapter because it just fit my character's situation so perfectly. I put a footnote at the end of the chapter to give them credit for their song. No copyright infringement is meant by its use. I don't own the rights to the song in anyway and I am not using it to make any money. Thanks.**

**At last, the end of the cliffhanger! LOL! This chapter is still rated T to T+ . There is some violence and some romance. Again nothing out of bounds, but maybe not for everyone. In this chapter we get to see Mac's dark side, which I really like, but I'm biased. Please read and review. Your support is very much appreciated. A big thank you to all of you who have reveiwed, you guys deserve some brownies or something good as a reward. Hope you enjoy reading it, because I had fun writing it!**

**Chapter 7**

"Mac!" Archer exclaimed as he watched her plummet to the ground, far below. He was completely alarmed by her sudden behavior. She certainly was full of surprises.

"What in the hell did she just do?" Trip demanded to know.

"Is she okay?" Hoshi asked, her small voice quavering.

The Captain didn't answer either question. He was far too busy watching his princess falling to the ground, obeying the law of gravity. He observed her landing gracefully on the forest floor. Her feet hit the ground first, one and then the other. Then she apparently let the impact spread up through her body as she crouched down and allowed it to flow out through her hands and arms as they connected with the ground. It took her less than a second to recover, and then with lightning speed, she ran off into the trees.

Mac barely felt the impact of her fall from the balcony. If she did injure anything, her body had already instantly healed it. She could only imagine that minimal trauma would have been the result of her slamming into the ground anyway. She had been designed to do this. She immediately rushed into the woods after her quarry.

The transgenic woman was a blur of motion as she moved through the thick trees and underbrush in the twilight of the evening. Every sense she had was highly attuned to move her over and through the obstacles in her path with the least amount of resistance. She saw every leaf, branch, twig, rock, flower, blade of grass, and change of terrain as a crystal clear image. More than seeing, she sensed where things were and was able to anticipate where she needed to adjust her heading, footing, or speed. She knew exactly when to duck her head to avoid a low tree limb, or when she needed to jump up over a fallen log. She literally ran up and over some of the large boulders in her path.

Mac continued to sniff the air, trying to locate the source of the disturbing smell. It was still there, but she was losing it. She redoubled her efforts, forcing herself to move faster. She strained to hear any movement of the being she had seen, especially its heartbeat. It was growing fainter, just as its smell was. The genetically engineered super solider still didn't have a visual on her prey. She knew it was out there. She just had to find it. Mac grew more and more frustrated that she hadn't been able to catch her quarry yet.

After several more minutes and many more kilometers, Mac lost the scent of the being completely. It was gone. She slowed her pace and then stopped. Her breath wasn't coming hard, but she needed to take a few deep ones to steady her heart rate. The beast inside her was pissed. She wanted to scream. Her hunt had been unsuccessful. It was not the desired outcome. Mac sat down on a large stump and tried to calm herself. The primal rage was almost overwhelming, far worse than she had ever felt it before.

Back at the palace, Archer was trying to get out into the forest, but Chief Suran was not allowing him to go anywhere. Aster was not pleased with the transgenic's actions. She was running wild and unsupervised out on the palace grounds. "I am sorry, Chief Suran," the Captain tried to be diplomatic. "I don't know what overcame her. You have to let me out there to find her."

"My men are perfectly capable of finding the transgenic," Aster said taking offense. "They will locate her and return her to the palace. Then we may need to lock her in the palace brig. We cannot allow her to wander around on a whim."

Archer sighed. "I am not trying to degrade your men's abilities, Chief, and I doubt Romdel told you, but I have a special connection to Mac. She could react badly to your men if they try and take her by force. She could kill them. She was programmed to do just that. I can get through to her and stop her from hurting anyone." At least he hoped he could get through to her again, if he needed to.

Aster considered the Captain's words. "Romdel did inform me of her earlier actions when she was revived and how she took out several of his men, and your men as well. You think she'd do it again?"

"If she feels threatened, I have very little doubt that she'll just allow herself to be captured," Archer said frankly.

"And you really believe she won't attack you?" the Vorloren security chief asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow and heavy doubt in his voice.

Archer silently prayed he was right. "Yes, I do."

Aster finally agreed to let the Captain go with a squad of ten men to search for Mac. Archer refused the pulse weapon he was offered. He didn't want to appear like a threat to Mac in anyway. He had no idea why Mac had run off the way she had, or what state of mind she was in. The Captain just wanted to get her back safe and sound, without an incident. The rest of the _Enterprise_ crew was ordered to remain in the parlor while the situation was resolved.

T'Pol was, for now, forced to remain on the moon. She paced uncomfortably in front of the bay windows in the parlor. The science officer was now regretting her change of opinion about the super solider. The creature was too unpredictable. Her instincts appeared to be much stronger than her sentient mind. Phlox stepped in front of T'Pol and stopped her from pacing. "I don't think this situation is as bad as it seems," he told her, as if reading her thoughts. "I believe Mac is just doing what she was programmed to do. I think she sensed a threat and went after it. I don't believe she's gone into some sort of barbaric fit."

"I hope you are right, Doctor, for all our sakes," T'Pol replied.

* * *

The Chimera was in control now. Mac was the one trapped in a cage. The primal rage had won out. The Vulcan meditation had also taught the demon a few tricks of its own in mastering control. The genetically enhanced woman's eyes were now totally wolfen amber. Her canine teeth had even elongated a little. Her fingernails had grown more claw-like in appearance. She was in full hunter mode. The small animals did not give her a sufficiently satisfactory hunt. She needed bigger game. When her acute hearing picked of the footsteps and heartbeats of several larger prey heading her way, she growled in anticipation of stalking and killing them. She wanted a challenge.

The predatory creature leapt into the nearest tree and in two bounds had reached a good-sized, inner branch. She hunched there, totally hidden from view. The Chimera waited silently for her game to approach. She could smell them now. The ammonia smell was nauseating; it could only mean Vorlorens. This would be fun. The Chimera did not like or trust the aliens. She would enjoy ripping them limb from limb. The brush crunched just beneath her. Her enhanced vision spotted two Vorloren guards four meters away from the tree. This was excellent. They would never know what had hit them.

The Vorlorens continued toward the tree with their pulse rifles held in firing position as they checked the area. As one of the guards came to a halt right under the beast's branch, she pounced. She came down right on the guard's main vertebrae, collapsing him to the ground in a heap. She swiftly moved to the guard's left and ball kicked him right in the chin. The Chimera used little force, not wanting to kill her prey too quickly. The guard went from his knees to lying flat on his back, moaning in pain. The second guard tried to react, but the Chimera was too quick for him. From her crouch on the ground, she swept her right leg against his shins and brought her left leg out and up to scissor him from in front and behind his legs. She twisted just right and brought him crashing to the ground with enough force to summersault him and knock him unconscious.

The super soldier moved in for the kill, licking her elongated teeth as she did. Just as she went for the throat with those newly sharpened teeth, Archer dashed through the foliage. "Mac, stop!" he cried out as he took in what she was doing. The Chimera instantly recognized both the smell and the voice that emanated from him. It was her Jonathan. He held no weapon. He was defenseless. The Chimera smiled wickedly at him. She had him. Now it was time to have some fun.

The Captain saw the purely animalistic look in Mac's eyes. This was different from what he had seen before, even when she had been revived. That look had been feral, but not like this one. This look was scary, extremely savage, and almost evil. It was cold and calculating, as well. What had happened to her? "Mac, its Jonathan. I'm not here to hurt you." He tried desperately to get through to her.

"I'm Chimera, Jonathan. Can't you tell the difference?" Mac's voice came out lower, very guttural.

Archer felt like he had been punched in the gut. This was what Mac had been trying to warn him about, her dark side, her demon. He tried not to show any fear. He had a feeling that his fear would only provoke the monster further. "What no witty reply? No soothing words?" she asked and laughed a sinisterly at him. She slowly advanced on Archer. He automatically took a few steps back. "You had better run, Jonathan." The beast taunted him now. The Captain wanted to run, and run for his life, but he held his ground. He was not going to let her intimidate him. "Okay, don't run," she said mockingly.

The Chimera sprang at him. She was very fast, but he had been expecting her to lunge at him. He barely sidestepped her in time. Archer tried to trip her with a low sweeping of his leg, but she anticipated him, avoiding the move. She came at him again trying to kick him in the solar plexus. He blocked the kick by catching her leg between his hands. The impact spread up his hands to his shoulders, leaving his arms feeling numb. Using Archer as leverage, she spun around with the other leg and caught him behind his knees. Down he went, forced to let go of her leg to break his fall. Then he surprised her by turning toward her on the ground, grabbing her by her wrists, and flipping her over his head with one of his legs. She was up on her feet in an instant, but so was he. He was fighting back, which was whetting her appetite. He wouldn't be able to match her enhanced abilities for long though.

She spun three hundred and sixty degrees to hit him in his lower back with a roundhouse knee. He smashed to the ground on his stomach, no breath left in him. She was on top of him in an instant, pinning him to the ground, pushing his face into the dirt. He tried to buck her off, but his breathing was labored, he was in pain, and she was far stronger than he was. Archer realized she had been toying with him, like a cat that played with a mouse. She wanted to prolong her kill to get more pleasure out of it.

His smell became stronger as she came into direct contact with him. The Chimera breathed it in deeply. She liked it as much as Mac did. Her desire to kill began to change into another kind of primitive desire. As she sat atop him, she leaned down and nuzzled the back of his neck with her nose. She also nipped roughly at him with her sharp teeth. Archer, as he caught his breath, attempted to buck her off his back a second time, but it was futile. The super solider slammed him right down into the ground again. This caused him to grunt again in more pain. "Please don't do this," he managed to get out, thinking she was going to kill him.

The Chimera only replied by turning him over to face her, still pinning him to the ground by sitting on him. She pinned his arms inside her knees as she straddled him. He struggled to get free. Her leg muscles were like vices, their grip firm and unyielding. The more contact the Chimera had with her Jonathan; the less and less she wanted to hurt him. She wasn't exactly calming down, but she no longer wanted to taste his blood. She did, on the other hand, want to taste him. She ran her hands up his chest and leaned down to lick his lips. She felt him shudder. "Mac, come on, stop this," he said weakly. He was starting to feel his fear replaced by a different emotion.

"Not Mac, Jonathan, Chimera," she whispered into his ear, and again nuzzled his neck with her nose. Her tongue licked his ear. He shivered again at her sensual touch. He wanted her now; all other thoughts seemed to escape him. Finally, she covered his mouth with hers and initiated a full-fledged, passionate kiss. He responded in kind, deepening and prolonging the kiss. Knowing she had him right where she wanted him, she allowed one of his arms free and he instantly slid it around her, pulling her down further on him. Between his touch and his kiss, the Chimera felt her control over Mac slip.

As the Chimera weakened, so did her hold on Archer. He sensed this weakening and flipped them over, so he was on top of her. He kissed her again hungrily. Both of his arms wrapped around her. He felt her hesitate and falter. He paused and looked at her. Mac's dark brown eyes were back. Relief washed through him. "Mac?" he asked as he nuzzled her neck with his lips.

"Jonathan," she whispered and made him kiss her on the mouth again. The passion they shared flared again, red-hot. The clicking of pulse rifles broke them apart a few seconds later. Eight Vorloren guards with weapons pointed at them came into view. The guards had noticed their downed colleagues and were ready to defend themselves. They weren't, however, expecting to find the two humans in the early stages of mating.

"We need you to return to the palace and explain your actions," one blond haired guard told them, not sure whether to laugh or be angry.

The Chimera tried to make a come back, but Mac mentally smacked her down. The Chimera smacked her back. The mental battle sent Mac into convulsions. "Help Jonathan!" she cried out. The convulsions worsened, until she was in a full-blown seizure. Archer held her to him and tried to prevent her from hitting her head too hard on the ground or from biting her tongue off.

"What's wrong with her?" another of the Vorloren guards demanded to know.

"I don't know," the Captain almost yelled at the alien. He held Mac as tightly as he could, feeling her almost shake apart. Then she suddenly stopped moving. Archer looked at her carefully. She had passed out. He didn't know if that was good or bad. At least now he could get her back to the palace without her fighting him. He needed to get her to Phlox right away.

Archer gingerly picked Mac up in a cradle carry, one arm holding her under her legs, and the other arm supporting her middle and lower back. "We need to get her to Dr. Phlox as quickly as possible," he told the eight Vorloren guards as they stood there bewildered, staring at him and Mac.

The guard in charge finally snapped to and started to lead Archer and three of the Vorloren guards back through the forest to the palace. The other four would tend to their injured comrades. Mac was remarkably light in the Captain's arms as he carried her through the brush. Her head rested against his shoulder. He could tell she was breathing, but she didn't stir otherwise. Archer's back began to ache with tension and pain from where Mac had kneed it. He imagined a large, nasty bruise would appear across his lower back in time. At least she hadn't broken anything. The skin on the back of his neck also felt like it was on fire where Mac had made indentations with her teeth. At least she hadn't pierced his skin, thank heaven.

The fact that Mac had attacked him at all really shook him up. It hit him that she had wanted to be called Chimera, not Mac. It was the monster in her that had attacked him, not Mac herself. The Chimera had started out trying to kill him, he was sure of that. He thought himself very lucky that he had been able to affect her hormones and change the bloodlust which she had felt to something else. Mac had warned both him and Phlox about the darker side of herself, but he had refused to believe that she could purposely be filled with malice. The Chimera inside her was truly terrifying, yet she excited him. Maybe it was her affecting his hormones, but he was strangely attracted to the danger she posed. Like a moth to a flame, he liked the dangerous way she played with him, and that really disturbed him.

Archer hoped Mac was all right. The seizure had been a bad one and she could have serious synaptic and neurological damage. He also hoped Phlox would be able to isolate the chemical, hormone, gene, or whatever it was that he had in him, so that they could free Mac from this mental and emotional prison she was in. He feared Romdel would have a fit over this latest incident and order Mac locked away. The Captain almost wished Romdel would do just that. He stopped that thought immediately. That would be the worst thing they could do.

"Do you require assistance, Captain?" A Vorloren guard asked after Archer stumbled and had to shift Mac's weight to get a better grip on her. Mac had run kilometers away, and the walk back was a long one, even though she was light.

Archer wasn't about to let anyone touch her, but him. "No, I'm fine," he snapped at the guard. She was his and his alone. Now where did that thought come from? Mac wasn't something he could possess or own. She was a living, sentient being, not a piece of property. For some strange reason he felt very possessive of her. He kept thinking that she belonged to him. And that was totally ridiculous, he told himself uncertainly.

Mac was vaguely aware of being moved. She faded in and out of consciousness. She heard voices around her, but couldn't make sense out of them. The transgenic briefly realized that Phlox was worriedly looking over her. Then she was semi-aware of being bathed and changed into something soft and silky. Then she blacked out completely again. All the time she knew that her Jonathan was near. He hadn't abandoned her. Both she and her beast were comforted by that fact.

When Mac finally awoke, she found herself in a soft, warm, and peaceful place. It was the bed in her palace bedroom. She thought for sure that she would be locked away in a prison cell. Instead she was tucked lovingly under various layers of sheets and blankets. Her head ached something fierce. She looked around the night-darkened room wondering what time it was, and how long she had been out of it. Mac suddenly remembered attacking Jonathan. She sat up swiftly and the room spun wildly. She dropped back down onto a feathery soft pillow. The super solider wanted to know if he was all right. The beast inside her also worried that for once, she had gone too far.

That admission from the Chimera floored Mac. The Chimera had never felt remorse for any of her actions. With Jonathan though, she truly feared that she had injured him, had injured a member of the pack, a dominant member of the pack. The Chimera didn't like that thought. Something about him made her honestly feel bad about how she had played with him and considered killing him. It went against nature to turn on a dominant pack member, unless you wanted to rule the pack. The Chimera had no intention of taking over Archer's pack. He also hadn't been a threat. For Mac this was a first. Both parts of herself, the light and the dark, both cared how they treated someone and what that someone thought about them, for the first time. Her beast was actually scared that Jonathan would want nothing to do with her now.

This fear was readily put to rest, as Mac caught Jonathan's scent. He was here in her room with her. She sat up carefully and slowly this time, looking around the room for his outline somewhere. She spotted him on a couch towards the back wall of the room. He appeared to be having a restless night. He lay on his stomach with his head turned away from her, towards the back of the couch. His blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor. Archer had changed out of his casual clothes into some black sweat pants. He had neglected to wear a shirt, not that Mac minded. His bare feet stuck out over the end of the couch. His breath was coming unevenly, like he was only half asleep, or not comfortable with where he was sleeping.

Mac cautiously slipped out of the bed. She noticed that she was now wearing a cream nightgown. It had thin straps and a low, fancy-laced neckline. It went down just past her knees, and each side at the bottom was slit up to her thigh. The nightgown was not very practical attire in her opinion, but it was comfortable and feminine. Quietly and skillfully, Mac walked over to the couch where the Captain lay. As she approached, she gazed at his back.

It was no wonder he was sleeping on his stomach. A large, reddish-purple bruise in the shape of Mac's knee had sprung up. The tissue and muscle appeared a little swollen as well. She winced as she realized that she had caused that painful mark. As Mac's eyes continued to wander up his body, she also caught sight of a few teeth imprints on his neck. Now she felt really bad. She had injured him. The Captain's form twisted and moved in his sleep. His head turned so it was now facing the room. His face was tensed. Archer was feeling the discomfort of his injuries even in his sleep. Couldn't Phlox have given him something for the pain?

The transgenic woman moved to kneel beside her Jonathan. She hesitantly reached her hand out and ran it tenderly over the bruise on his back, using just her fingertips. He sighed at her touch. Mac then delicately traced the bite marks on his neck. The Chimera had claimed him. You only marked a male to make him yours, to show he was now off limits to other females. That was curious. Her beast didn't want to lose Jonathan, so she had put her mark upon him. Mac's hand traveled up into Archer's hair. She ran the hand slowly and softly through his short, sandy brown hair several times. Again, he sighed and snuggled into his pillow.

She needed to go for a walk to clear her mind and figure out what was happening to her. In the morning she would find Phlox and tell him all her secrets, and let him tell her the things he had discovered about her with his improved technology. She had to find a way to live as one person, not as two separate entities. Mac carefully listened to the noises around her. She heard a number of guards standing out in the hallway beyond the bedroom door. She wouldn't be leaving that way.

The genetically enhanced woman decided to slip out the balcony doors. She could leap from balcony to balcony until she could find a room that suited her pensive mood. She did just that, after she grabbed a cream colored, silk robe she found by her bed. She wandered the palace for what seemed like hours, until she found the music room. What caught her attention was a large musical instrument that looked remarkably like a piano sitting in the center of the room. It had been an eternity sense she had played. Music had always been a saving grace for Mac. It truly did sooth her savage beast. It gave her small moments of bliss.

The instrument was carved out of some kind of white wood. It resembled a baby grand. Mac raised up what she identified as the baby grand's lid. She wanted to let the full sound of the instrument come out. Then Mac opened the covering over what she hoped were the keys. She was right. Mac sat for a few moments trying to recall songs she had learned. It didn't take long. She started to play quietly, so as not to disturb anyone in the palace. She went through everything from Beethoven to Mozart. Then something incredible happened, the transgenic started making music of her own, creating it from scratch as she went. As she got into it, she added words. The melody was hauntingly sweet. It came from deep within her troubled soul. The words had a dark tone to them, but also a hope of something more.

Trip awoke swearing he was hearing an angel singing to him. The room he had chosen to reside in was on the same level as the music room. He heard the music playing in his sleep, but when the poignant voice joined the sad and lonely melody, he woke right up. At first he thought he was hearing things or still dreaming, but then as he came to his senses, he realized someone was playing an instrument that sounded a whole lot like a piano and was singing along with the tune. The voice was deep, rich, like a siren that lured men to their doom. He had to know who it was.

He jumped out of his bed, dressed in light gray sweat pants, and nothing else. He, like Archer, had neglected to wear a shirt or socks. He opened his door and listened. The music continued to call longingly to him. He vaguely remembered a room filled with musical instruments down around the corner from his quarters. He headed there. As he neared the open entranceway to the music room, he paused and just peeked around the open space in the wall. He didn't want to be seen just yet. His mouth fell to the floor when he saw Mac at the piano-like instrument. He could make out the words to her song now and he listened, totally hypnotized. He heard her singing to the melancholy tune she was playing.

_"I've been looking in the mirror for so long,_

_That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side._

_All the little pieces falling, shatter._

_Shards of me, too sharp to put back together, too small to matter,_

_But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces,_

_If I try to touch her…_

"_And I bleed, I bleed, and I breathe, I breathe no more._

"_Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirit's well,_

_Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child, _

She crescendoed here, full of longing.

_"Lie to me; convince me that I've been sick forever,_

_And all of this will make sense when I get better._

_But I know the difference, between my self and my reflection._

_I just can't help but to wonder, which of us do you love?_

Her voice grew softer.

_"So I bleed, I bleed, and I breathe, I breathe no…_

She finished strong and powerful.

"_Bleed, I bleed, and I breathe, I breathe, I breathe, I breathe_

_No more." __1_

Each "bleed" and "breathe" was long and drawn out, thick with vibrato. Trip could feel all her inner turmoil and sorrow come through in the song. It penetrated his very core and stayed with him. It was exquisite and somber. Her voice echoed throughout the room. It was a voice fit to sing with heavenly hosts. The song lingered all throughout Trip's nerves. He felt out of breath and shaky.

As Mac finished singing, she continued playing the haunting melody for a few more bars. "You don't have to stand there, Trip. You can come sit down and join me," she said invitingly. She looked over towards him as he stood hiding just outside the entrance to the music room.

Trip started and stammered a response. "I – I –I wasn't spyin' on you or anythin'," he finally managed to say. "H- How did you know I was here?" he asked as he stepped into the room.

Mac stopped playing and turned her whole attention to him. "I can smell you, and I know that you weren't trying to spy on me. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Did you just say you could smell me?" Trip looked truly embarrassed now. He even raised one of his arms and sniffed. This action caused Mac to laugh right out loud. To Trip, her laugh was as musical as her singing voice.

"No, no, you misunderstand," she said after her burst of laughter. "One of my abilities is having a very sensitive sense of smell. The wolf and leopard DNA I have allows me to smell things far beyond what a normal human can smell. Everyone I come into contact with has a scent that is specific to them. It helps me identify friend or foe from very long distances. I can also use my sense of smell to detect certain chemical compounds. Smell can tell me a lot about somebody's personality too." Mac tried to put Trip at ease.

"What do I smell like?" He had to ask. "Is your sense of smell like that of a Vulcan?"

Mac laughed again. This man was such a good-old Southern gent. She felt at ease around him. He didn't hold back what he was thinking. He was very upfront. It was nice for a change. She decided to tease him a little. "My sense of smell is between fifty and a hundred times more acute than a normal human. But I don't know how sensitive a Vulcan's sense of smell is. And to answer your main question, you smell like the bayou," she told him straight-faced.

"I smell like the swamp!" Trip was genuinely horrified at that thought.

Mac only smiled, and then she flat out laughed at him. "No, like the fresh outdoorsy smell it can have or like it has just rained. It's a refreshing smell." She finally explained to him.

"Oh," he said relieved and blushing from even more embarrassment. Then he laughed as he realized the silliness of the whole situation. "I guess I fell into that one, huh?"

"Yes, you did Southern Boy," she quipped. "I'd say by your accent, that you're from the panhandle region of Florida, aren't you?"

"You're good, I'll give you that," Trip came a little further into the room. The room was decorated in dark brown wood and forest green shades of color. The floor was similar to the hardwood that was in the parlor. It had vibrant rugs covering the heavily treaded areas. Instruments of various shapes, sizes, colors, and designs filled the wall opposite the entranceway. A few comfortable looking couches were placed around the room strategically for listening to music, not sitting and chatting. A gigantic crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room, above the piano-like instrument Mac was seated at. Trip decided to stay standing for the moment. "I have to say that you have a very enchanting voice. I thought I was dreaming, but it was you that sounded like an angel."

It was Mac's turn to blush. "Thank you," she said admiring his shirtless physique and taking in his handsome face.

"You're welcome." Trip couldn't stop staring at her either. He found her very alluring. She had tied her long, dark hair back with a cream ribbon that matched the sensual nightgown and robe she was wearing. He was extremely attracted to her. The chief engineer was starting to understand the Captain's feelings toward her. She was amazing. A sudden and fun thought occurred to him. "Can I play with you?' he asked indicating the instruments on the wall.

"You can play one of those?" she asked in surprise.

"No, but I have somethin' in my room that will work just fine," Trip said with a smile. "Just let me run get it. I'll be right back." He tore out of the entranceway and down the hall, leaving Mac to stare after him. What kind of instrument would he bring down from his ship?

Trip returned a few minutes later with a good-sized, silver harmonica. Since he had traded his old one away, on a planet colonized by humans that had lived like it was the Wild, Wild West, he had had to find a new one. It had taken him almost two years, but he had finally found one that suited him. He was really Southern, Mac decided.

Mac and Trip found they both knew a variety of showtunes from Broadway musicals. They played everything from _Oklahoma_ to _Phantom of the Opera_. At times she would sing the words to the songs and at other times he would. Trip even got Mac to play some bluegrass music with him. Trip moved around the room, standing on one side of the piano-like instrument or the other as he played his harmonica. He finally perched next to her on the piano-like instrument's bench.

They both hoped that they weren't disturbing anyone else in the palace, but they were having way too much fun to really care. It had been a long time since Mac had allowed herself just to have fun for fun's sake. After an hour and half, they came to the conclusion of their private recital. "I better get back to my room before the guards and your captain realize I am not there. I don't want them to think I have gone on the rampage again," Mac said suddenly feeling guilty. "Why wasn't I locked up in a cell?" she suddenly asked.

Trip noticed her abrupt change in mood as he sat at the piano-like instrument with her. "The Cap'n and Phlox spent a long time filling Chief Suran in about what your situation is and how they were sure that another incident wouldn't occur. Chief Suran was also a little more willing to give you a second chance when he learned that you hadn't actually killed any of his men, just knocked them unconscious. The Cap'n was able to convince him that locking you up would only make things worse and that the Vorlorens would not get any more cooperation from us if he did lock you up," Trip informed her, and then asked, "What happened earlier tonight? One minute you were chattin' and enjoyin' the sunset and the next you were up and over the balcony." Trip tried to be gentle in how he asked her about the incident.

Mac realized she hadn't been able to tell anyone about the strange smell that had triggered her defensive and hunting instincts, or about the primal rage that released the Chimera from her cage. Trip seemed open enough and kind enough to talk to, so she decided to let herself open up to him. "This is going to sound funny to you, but I thought we were in danger."

"Danger? In what way?" He was curious now. He hadn't seen or heard anything that could have been threatening to them out on the balcony.

"I caught a strange scent," she began. "It is hard to explain to someone who can't smell things like I do."

Trip tried to be encouraging. "Try me."

"Whatever was out in those woods had a sickly-sweet, burnt sugar smell," Mac clarified. "The Vorlorens all have an ammonia type smell about them, and all the humans I have come in contact with don't have that kind of scent. I processed this unidentifiable scent as a threat. My automatic response to that threat was to hunt it down and eliminate it. I used my heightened vision and enhanced hearing to locate it, and I thought I had."

"That's when you went over the balcony. You were tryin' to catch whatever it was that you thought you'd found," Trip interjected. "Kinda like a bloodhound?"

"Yes," Mac affirmed. "The only problem was it was somehow faster than I was, and I'm not slow. The scent dissipated until I lost it completely. The beast inside of me and the normally reasonable side of me were both enraged. I tried to contain it, lock it away, but having both parts of myself so angry allowed the beast to use that anger against me and let itself out. Even she was more furious than usual and things went bad from there. I was lost to the monster within, totally and completely. Eventually, Jonathan found me, but I was so far gone that I even attacked him." She broke off, still ashamed of hurting her Jonathan.

"This creature or whatever you where tracking, what did it look like?" Trip asked.

"I only saw an obscure outline. It wasn't an animal. Maybe it was another kind of alien. I don't know." She hung her head and leaned her weight on the piano-like instrument in front of her. Mac felt Trip's arm wrap around her shoulder. The remorse she had been holding in now bubbled to the surface. "I broke my promise, Trip. I broke it." She whispered through a sob.

"What promise, Mac?" He pulled her against him and let her cry on his shoulder.

"I promised myself, that I wouldn't hurt your captain or any of those under his command," Mac managed to say through her tears. "I was so sure I could control my beast around him and those that served with him. I was so foolish and so wrong. I could have killed more people. I could have butchered those guards. I'm such an abomination." She stopped again as she was racked with more guttural sobs.

"Whoa, hold on a minute," Trip said quickly. "You are not an abomination. Where did you get that idea from? So you have a bad temper…" Trip began quietly, but he was cut off.

Mac tried to pull away, but Trip wouldn't let her. "You don't understand Trip. I can't trust myself around people. I am too unpredictable. I have a lot more than a bad temper." That was the understatement of the century.

"Listen, I know that Jon will do everything he can to help you get through this," Trip rubbed her back lightly. "We'll all help you. Jon believes in you, and so do I. Phlox will find a way to solve your dilemma. There hasn't been a medical problem yet that the good doctor hasn't been able to work out. Give yourself some time, be patient, and don't give up just yet. Have faith, darlin'. You don't have to do this alone." Mac looked up from Trip's shoulder and into his lake blue eyes. She saw the truth of what he said in them. Someone had truly blessed her. She couldn't believe such compassionate and determined people had found her.

"Thank you," she said as she hugged him tightly, drawing strength from him. She caught Jonathan's scent as she sat there letting Trip hold her. He was standing in the entranceway to the music room with a group of Vorloren guards and MACO soldiers.

TBC

**Please let me know what you think. What's is good, bad, or something else? LOL! Thanks.**

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1 "Breathe No More" by Evanescence, Dwight Frye Music, Inc. 2004 - I am just borrowing this beautiful song, no copy right infringement meant by its use, full credit goes to Evanescence and Amy Lee. 


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**I used a song from the musical _Jekyll and Hyde_. Again, one of its songs just fit my character and her emotions. I placed a footnote at the end of the chapter to give the credit to the true writers of the lyrics and music. I don't own any rights to any part of the musical. No copy right infringement is meant by the song's use. I am not making any money off of it. Thanks.**

**This chapter is again rated T to T+ because of the romance theme. It's not overboard, but may not be for all. Please read and review. Enjoy the read!**

**Chapter 8**

"You can tell Chief Suran that we've found her and everything's fine," the Captain told his Vorloren escorts. The four Vorloren guards backed away from the music room entranceway and one of them activated what looked like a walkie-talkie to report into his commander. Archer, at first, had been panicked when he had awoken and found Mac's bed empty. He had worried about her. Now, as she sat at what he thought was a piano, with Trip's arms around her, he was angry. Jealousy welled up in him like a high-pressure geyser ready to burst up through the ground. How dare another man touch her, even if it was only Trip, one of his best friends. It didn't help that Trip was shirtless either. The Captain had put on a black T-shirt to go with his black sweatpants. He didn't want to traipse around the palace half dressed, like the shameless Commander. _How unprofessional of him_, Archer thought angrily.

"Would one of you like to explain what in hell is going on here?" His raw anger leaked out into his voice.

Trip stood up and looked at Archer like he had grown another head. He couldn't figure out why the Captain was so mad. His normally playful smile was gone and there was no hint on Archer's features that suggested he was joking. Trip grew defensive. "We were just enjoying the music room and its instruments. Mac wandered in here, sat down, and started playin' that piano thingy there, and she eventually started singin' along. It woke me up because my room is just down the hall and around the corner. I decided to join in with her music makin' with my harmonica," he explained, holding up said harmonica as proof.

The Captain knew that Trip was telling him the truth. A few of the Vorloren servants had heard the music and alerted the Vorloren security force to Mac's location. But it bothered him that he had caught Mac and Trip in an embrace. "And after that?" he hissed angrily at Trip.

Again, Trip was troubled by his friend's fierce tone. "We talked a little about Mac's incident because she needed to; she needed a friend. She feels real bad about what happened." He emphasized what he said next, "Especially about how she hurt you. I think she was afraid we'd all given up on her. I was only reassurin' her that we weren't ever going to give up on her."

Archer's anger turned down a notch, but the jealousy wouldn't fully leave him. "I see. I'll talk to you more about it later, _Commander_." He emphasized the rank with venom in his voice. "I think you should go back to bed, now," he ordered, more than stated.

Trip seemed visibly hurt by Archer's formal and abrupt manner, but said, "Yes sir," and left the room.

The Captain told the MACOs and Vorlorens that they could go too; he could handle things from here. Mac was still sitting on the piano bench. Her head rested on the space above the keys. She wouldn't look at Archer. He came to stand next to her by the left side of the piano-like instrument. Mac didn't even glance up at him. He suddenly felt ashamed of his behavior. He had just treated Trip like dirt for no logical reason. What was wrong with him? He had probably upset Mac too.

"You doing okay?" he asked in a much gentler tone of voice.

"Not really," Mac mumbled.

Archer took a seat beside her on the bench. "I was worried about you. That's twice you've run off on me. If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to tell me something." He tried to lighten the mood.

"I'm sorry; I just needed some time to myself. I couldn't face you after what I had done to you," her voice was tremulous.

The Captain put his arms around her and made her face him. "I'm fine. A little sore, but no real damage done. I'm not mad at you or upset with you in any way."

"You should lock me up and throw away the key," she said miserably. She couldn't help but snuggle into his embrace.

"I thought about it," he said straight-faced. Mac looked up at him in shock, "but then I realized what a waste of a beautiful woman it would be." He smiled at her. He was joking with her. The anger she had sensed in him a few minutes before had not been directed at her. She wondered why it had been directed at Trip though.

"I can't apologize enough, Jonathan. What I did was inexcusable," her voice was shaky again.

"It's already forgotten," he said as he pulled her close. He slowly felt her arms wrap around his waist. She brushed his bruised back and he winced. "Well, almost forgotten." He tried to make light of his injury.

"Can't Phlox give you something for the pain and swelling?" she asked with concern in her voice.

Archer kissed her forehead and replied, "Normally he would administer some kind of analgesic, but I can't have anything like that right now."

"Why not?" she demanded to know.

"My hormone levels are out of whack. Phlox thinks that any kind of drug or medication right now might cause an adverse reaction," the Captain said, and then realized she didn't know about how they affected each other's hormone levels.

"That's my fault too, isn't it?" she said, more than asked.

"What do you mean? You couldn't know---," his voice drifted off. It dawned on him that Mac had somehow overheard his discussion with Phlox. Yet another ability of hers no doubt.

Mac knew she had been caught. She blushed slightly. Archer thought it added to her loveliness. "When Phlox talked to you outside my hospital room door, I heard the whole conversation. I eavesdropped with my enhanced hearing."

Archer stared at her. He really needed to talk in-depth with her about what exactly all her skills and abilities were. He was also embarrassed about some of the things he and Phlox had said when he didn't realize that she was listening. "So you know all about the hormonal affect that we have on each other and that we may be closer to helping you than you think."

"If by that you mean that you possess something in you that could help me control the monster in me, then yes, I do know," Mac replied and was rubbing her hands up and down his back now, carefully avoiding the bruised area. She was feeling calmer and more at peace again. Her Jonathan seemed to be in a better mood now too. She could feel the need for him beginning to build throughout her body. He must have felt something similar, because he carefully pulled away and stood. Mac could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Hers was too.

"Phlox looked you over after you fainted from that terrible seizure you had," the Captain said as he tried to think clearly. "He thinks that many of the chemicals in your brain were flooding your neurotransmitters with an over abundance of signals and your central nervous system couldn't handle it. The seizure was your body's way of trying to balance the state of things back to acceptable levels. Eventually it shut your mind down and you blacked out."

No wonder her head pounded like a guy with a jackhammer was pile-driving away inside it. "My head really does hurt," she confessed. She stayed seated on the bench. "I guess the mental and spiritual battle my two sides were having was more than my mind and body could take. I've never had it get that bad before." She grew solemnly thoughtful. "I am curious to know if that was how so many of my brothers and sisters felt when they went mad."

"You're not mad, Mac" Archer told her firmly. "It seems to me that you fight with yourself way too hard. Both parts of you want total control, all the time. Maybe you're going to have to learn how to find a way to share control."

"The Chimera will never be satisfied with partial control," said Mac dismissing his idea. "She wants it all. The demon wants my soul, Jonathan."

"You're talking about a part of yourself. She is you. There has to be a way to get the two halves to become one," the Captain said as he returned to sit beside her.

Mac smile sadly at him. "I'm afraid that's wishful thinking."

"Why, because you're too proud to admit that you need the Chimera just as much as she needs you?" Archer again had insight from an unknown source, but he went with it. "She's your strength. She allows you to protect those you care about. She gives you the ability to overcome all the odds against you. And the Chimera would be nothing but a mindless brute, if she didn't have the human side of you to temper her aggression with. She needs your compassion and morality to channel all that strength and power in to something productive. I don't believe she would be able to survive very long without the humanity you bring to her. You need both sides of yourself to be whole."

Mac was speechless. Only one other man had ever spoken like that to her before. "You sound like my father, when you speak like that," her voice was barely a whisper.

"What?" he asked in surprise. "What father? I thought they created you in a test tube in a lab."

"The Corporation of Scientists designed the embryos in test tubes, but they incubated us in a human womb. I had a physical mother that carried me to term and actually gave birth to me. We all did. None of us ever got to see our mothers after that. One of the chief genetists, Victor McKnight, decided to raise me for a time as his own daughter. He was a good, kind, and honest man. Later, out of respect, I took his last name as mine," Mac said all this as she looked back at it, as if it were just yesterday. The memories of the affable, affectionate, devoted, loving, and considerate man, whom she had called Father, brought fresh tears to her eyes.

It had been a long time since she had thought about him: so patient, so gallant, and so full of integrity. He had been the one to teach her right from wrong. He had filled her head and heart with marvelous tales about heroes and their noble deeds. Victor McKnight had instilled in her a sense of morality and uprightness. He had mentored her to help the weak and downtrodden and to protect the innocent. He had loved her as if she had been his own child. How could she have forgotten all about him? Then the painful part of the memory came back and she knew why. It shook her to her very core as she relived it.

She and Victor had come back to their home from an amusement park, where they had enjoyed the day just having fun to take a break from the rigors of the intense training she and others like her were going through. She had been seven years old. When they arrived at the house, they found two black sedans parked outside. Men overseeing Project Manticore were waiting in the living room. Victor had told her to go to her room and stay there until he was done talking to these men. Mac pretended to go to her room, but she had snuck into the kitchen to watch with her enhanced vision and listen with her enhanced hearing.

This was all before the animalistic side had shown itself in Mac and the others. That would come with puberty. A few trials before Mac's group had revealed that deadly secret about transgenics. Everyone had hoped that Mac's generation of super solider would be different. Oh, how wrong they were.

Victor argued adamantly with his visitors. They accused him of undermining the project and purposely sabotaging its success. They wanted to take Mac away from him and put her with the others permanently. The men thought he was interfering detrimentally with Mac's development. He was making her soft and hampering her true abilities. Victor didn't take their criticism well. He told them that Project Manticore wasn't just about creating better soldiers, it was about creating better human beings. He refused to let them take Mac. That's when things went wrong.

One of the men in a dark, black overcoat pulled out a gun and shot Victor, not just once, but eight times, in the head and chest. The man murdered her father in cold blood, no warning, no mercy. Mac had been stupefied by what she had witnessed. She had gone numb. Her whole world had turned upside down. The one being who believed in her in the cruel world she lived in was executed right in front of her childish eyes. It was the first time she had ever felt the far-reaching, primal rage and the Chimera had been born. She lashed out at the murderers, tackling the man with the gun to the ground. She pummeled him with her fists and clawed at him with her fingers. When the others tried to stop her she turned on them too.

The Chimera had not been merciful to any of them. They had all received torn throats and a couple of them she had ripped apart. It took a S.W.A.T. like unit to finally make her stop. She had been only seven. That had been the first clue to others in the Corporation that their new batch of transgenics had problems. Later, when puberty hit the others, their bestial natures came out and similar incidents occurred more and more regularly. Some slowly turned, while others turned right away.

Mac hated herself for so brutally and viciously killing the men that executed Victor, even though they probably deserved it. She had to learn a lot about herself in the ensuing years to find ways to keep the beast inside her at bay. This transgenic did not want to be a killer. She knew it was wrong to crave the blood of others and hunger for their deaths. Victor had taught her that. As she got older, it became harder and harder to prevent the monster within from coming out, but she knew that her father would not want her to give in. He had instructed her better than that. Eventually, she was able to block the memory of his senseless death from her conscious mind, but the Chimera remembered it. She held on to it and used it to fuel her rage. Victor McKnight's death and its aftermath were one of the things that kept Mac from accepting her darker side.

She told all of this to Archer. He was astounded. "I've never trusted another human being since then, Jonathan," she paused and held his hazel-green gaze, "until I met you: someone who had the same qualities that Victor had."

"I don't think I can blame you," he found himself saying. "I can't image what that would do to an ordinary child, let alone a genetically engineered one. And then the way they trained you and programmed you. Even with all the love you received, you still had to contend with the animal part of yourself. Your brothers and sisters didn't stand much of a chance of overcoming their beast without receiving anything like the nurturing you had."

"I only received that kind of attention for a few years and it was sometimes intermittent," Mac pointed out. "Victor was a good man, but he still was one of their chief scientists. He still had to do the Corporation and the shadow government's bidding. He chose his career path very poorly. His intentions were noble at first, but they led him straight to hell." She had to down play her true feelings for her father. It was too painful to face the reality of his goodness, despite whom he had worked for.

Why did she always down play the good things in her life? It baffled Archer. "This Dr. McKnight was able to teach you upstanding standards and values at a very young age, when you were most impressionable. It had to have had a long lasting effect. It is too bad he couldn't have instilled those qualities in all the transgenics he was responsible for bringing into existence."

"Maybe," was all she said. She was so damn stubborn and full of a twisted sense of pride, but Archer would let it drop for now. This was something that needed to be explored further, when the time was right.

"So you and Trip were having a sing-a-long in here, huh?" He asked, changing the subject.

Mac smiled at the more pleasant memory. "Yeah, we were. Music is always good for the soul."

"Agreed," the Captain smiled back at her. "Would you play for me?"

Mac wasn't expecting this, but it delighted her. Of course she would play for her Jonathan. "Sure. What do you want to hear?"

"Surprise me." He left it up to her. "What were you and Trip playing?"

"Broadway musical tunes," she informed him. "I can think of the perfect one to play for you. It fits how I feel right now and maybe it will help you understand my pessimism. See if you can guess what musical it comes from," she challenged him.

Archer couldn't wait to hear her play and sing. "Be my guest."

She began to play a lost and somber tune. It was fully of longing and deep need. The melody was almost waterfall-like. It was very measured, methodical, and deliberate, not hurried at all. When Mac began with the words, Archer was mesmerized. She started off very softly.

"_Look at me and tell me who I am,_

_Why I am,_

_What I am._

She slowly crescendoed, then softened again.

"_Call me a fool and its true I am._

_I don't know who I am._

She went a little faster here, then slowed again.

"_It's such a shame,_

_I'm such a sham._

_No one knows who I am._

She added a lot of deep feeling here.

"_I am the face of the future?_

_I am the face of the past?_

_I am the one who must finish last?_

"_Look at me and tell me who I am,_

_Why I am,_

_What I am._

This was the most poignant part, in Mac's opinion.

"_Will I survive?_

_Who will give a damn,_

_If no one knows who I am?_

She slowed way down and drew out the last line.

"_Nobody knows,_

_Not even you. No one knows who I am."__1_

Mac really drew out many of the words, echoing them with vibrato and an almost operatic feel to them. It sunk into Archer's heart. Then again, it was a haunting song. He felt her real despair and the truth in the song's meaning. Mac didn't know who she was or what she was. She had been thrust into another time and was quite lost. He hoped he could help her find herself. The song was very familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. "I know this music," he told her, "but I can't figure out from where."

"Think of a scientist who is searching for a way to rid humanity of its evils." Mac gave him a clue. He still gave her a confused look. "He finds a way to isolate the good from the bad and experiments on himself," she elaborated.

How could he have not guessed the play it came from? The story line of it perfectly fit Mac and her situation. "It's from the musical _Jekyll & Hyde_, based on the book by Robert Louis Stevenson," he heard himself say.

"Appropriate, don't you think?" she cocked a dark eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he had to admit, "but that story didn't have a very happy ending. As I recall, Jekyll forced his friends to kill him to stop the murderous Hyde in the musical version. And in the book, Hyde takes over Jekyll completely and commits suicide." Archer didn't like the similarities he was seeing.

She repeated her earlier question. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

"But your story doesn't have to end the same way," the Captain insisted. "Jekyll did what he did to himself. He, and he alone, was responsible for the consequences of his choices. You didn't to ask to be brought into existence they way you were. You didn't have a say in what the scientists did to you. I agree that you have been placed in an extremely difficult and strenuous position, but you can choose what kind of life you have now and what you do with what you have been given. You can make different choices than some character in a story did. You don't have to follow the same path. You have different resources and options that Jekyll didn't. You have me. I'll help you beat this." He added very emphatically at the end.

Again, Mac didn't know what to say. Deep down inside her soul, she knew he was right. She could make different choices, she had people to help her. Jekyll had kept his inner battle a secret from everyone, even the woman he loved, Emma. Mac's inner struggle was well known by many people, people who wanted to come to her aid and work with her through this epic confrontation of good versus evil. With all the support she had and her own desire to overcome her weaknesses, good could win. This hope had been kindled in her so many times and then been dashed to pieces. She didn't know if she dared to hope again. The letdown was so painful. But staring into her Jonathan's loving eyes gave her the desire to hope once again.

His lips met hers, catching her off guard. Archer kissed her with everything he had. He wanted her to believe him. It didn't take her long to follow suit and she kissed him back full of ardor and craving. They indulged themselves a little longer this time than on the previous occasion. She gave herself over to him. The kissing became more urgent and Archer finally had to break away, or he too would lose himself. He couldn't give into these incredible feelings, not yet at least. He had to be strong for her. This was too much too fast.

"I think the sun's coming up," he said with a very breathy voice. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired." He stood slowly and waited for her to do the same.

"Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now, Jonathan," she said with a voice that had a very seductive edge to it. She stood as well, but brushed her lips along his neck and shoulders, her arms draping around his waist possessively. "I don't wanna stop," she whispered into his ear. Her touch was soft, lulling, and sent warmth throughout his body. He almost caved into her. The Captain allowed himself to kiss her enthusiastically one more time, then he broke away again.

"I don't either, but until we can get this body chemistry thing sorted out, I think it's better to restrain ourselves for a while," he said as he slipped out of her arms and towards the entranceway door.

"I'll let you get away this time, Jonathan," she said sensually. "But next time I won't." It was a heated promise. He was relieved that she wasn't distraught by his holding back and didn't take it the wrong way, but another part of him couldn't wait for the next time.

He didn't reply. He didn't trust what he might say. He held out his hand and she took it. She really felt like his strength of spirit flowed from him and into her. She could gain his fortitude and use it to replenish her own. Mac silently thanked whatever deity there was in the universe for letting a man like Jonathan Archer find her. She let him lead her back through the maze of corridors and stairways back to her bedroom, where he tucked her back into her soft and warm sanctuary.

He went to take his place on the couch, when her voice stopped him. "Could you just hold me, Jonathan? I don't want to be away from you right now."

Archer smiled at her earnest plea. He couldn't refuse her. "As you wish, milady," he replied climbing into the bed and under the covers with her. He gently spooned up behind her and placed an arm around her, drawing her close to him. He allowed his cheek to rest lightly on hers. This felt so right. Her closeness soothed him, just as his soothed her. With contented sighs, they both fell into a peaceful and much needed sleep.

TBC

**What do you think? How am I doing? Please let me know by dropping just a few lines of a review. Thanks!**

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1 This song comes from the musical _Jekyll & Hyde_. The lyrics are by Leslie Bricusee and the music is by Frank Wildhorn. No copyright infringement is meant by its use. I just thought the words fit the theme of the story. 


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Just a little warning about this chapter. It's still rated a T or T because this chapter has some violence and a minor romantic bit. Again nothing _too_ explicit, but it might not be for everyone. I haven't written anything that couldn't be shown in a PG-13 movie, but you never know. I have used this chapter to tell more about my aliens, the Vorlorens, and a bit about how their big civil war started. I also used this chapter to explore Mac and Khan's (from _Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan_) past relationship and interaction. I kind of used some of the ideas from Greg Cox's books about how Khan became who he was and how Khan's history is explained. Hope you like it. Please read and review.**

**Thanks to all of you who do review. You guys rock!!!!! Thanks also to RadcliffePotter for once again being my beta. Enjoy!!!**

**Chapter 9**

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_Captain's Starlog: Supplemental_

_It's been five days now since we revived the transgenic woman, McKenna Knight, from her cryogenic sleep. Mac has taken to the PADDs that Hoshi was kind enough to prepare for her, and she has already gone through half the databases stored in _Enterprise's_ computers. Chief Suran has been understanding enough to allow her an open comm with our vessel. Mac absorbs the information she reads like a sponge and she has an incredible ability to plow through it at an extremely rapid rate._

Archer sat in the palace library with Hoshi and Mac, as Mac continued to read and learn about the one hundred and fifty years she had missed out on while she was asleep. The transgenic was seated at a small round table with numerous PADDs spread out across its surface in front of her. She was also going through all the technical specs on the _Enterprise_ itself and all of its technology and capabilities. She periodically referred to information contained in the Vulcan database as well. The Captain had been studying some of the Vorloren's history books, which Hoshi had been able to translate into English for him. It fascinated him just how closely the Vorloren Civil War, mirrored Earth's American Revolution. The comparison was eerily familiar and slightly unnerving.

From what he had read, the Vorlorens did not paint a pretty picture of the Lasiterians. Originally, before the civil war started the population of the Vorlorens was around ninety billion people. They spanned fourteen planets and had additionally set up colonies on six of the outermost planets in the system. Twenty-three billion of the Vorlorens had been classified as Lasiterians. They'd made up about one-fourth of the total Vorloren population, and they had a milky look to their white skin as opposed to the translucent appearance that most Vorlorens had.

The Lasiterians had been sent to colonize the outer six planets of the system and a few of the smaller moons within the system. The Lasiterians were skilled at mining a precious ore the Vorlorens once had considered key to all their technology and fuel supplies. It was called Dritetan. The outer planets contained large amounts of this once valuable ore. The mining process and the mines themselves made most Vorlorens very sick, poisoning them. The Lasiterians, however, were immune to this sickness or the poisoning effect. Many of them thought that they could make a large profit by going to the colonies and supplying the rest of the system with the ore, so they went willingly.

Out in the colonies, they were not under the direct control of the High Monarch and decided to let their leaders be chosen by the people living and working in the colonies. They set up their own system of government, developed their own security force, and created their own sets of laws. Eventually, this separate system of government and laws came into conflict with _true _Vorloren law and the rulings of the High Monarch. The High Monarch and his Council of Elders decided to crack down upon the Lasiterians and force them to obey the original Vorloren law.

The colonists had gotten too good of a taste of independence, however, and did not take too kindly to being forced to comply with the High Monarch's wishes. They refused to accept the authority of the regular Vorloren army and refused to quarter them, essentially kicking them out of the colonies. The Lasiterians had their own militia or security force to protect them and enforce their own laws. The colonists also stopped paying what they thought was an absurdly high tribute to the High Monarch, cutting his treasury income down considerably. The colonists had amassed a lot of wealth over the years.

The High Monarch, his Council of Elders, and many of the prominent businessmen throughout the Vorloren system feared that the colonists would cut them off from their much-needed supplies of Dritetan. They decided to build up the Vorloren military and sent them to secure a key mining site on the planet of Trensa. It was by far the largest and most productive mine in the whole system, and it was under Lasiterian control. That was considered unacceptable by the main part of the Vorloren community. Through a series of poor communications and misunderstandings, a fierce firefight broke out between some of the Lasiterian militiamen and the regular Vorloren army. Thousands were killed on each side, and the civil war had begun.

The Vorlorens saw this firefight as an act of war and reacted in response to that act of war by sending more and more troops to try and coerce the Lasiterians into surrendering. This build up for war took years. The Vorlorens had the capability of interplanetary travel, but that was all, and that was slow going at best. According to the Vorloren historians, the war escalated to dangerous levels when the Lasiterians developed powerful nuclear weapons and used them on civilian targets. The Lasiterians started taking hostages and stole funds from neutral cities. They even pirated neutral cargo vessels.

As the supply of the rare ore was cut off from the Vorlorens, they started losing the war. They had no supplies to build their ships or to power their weapons. That was when they made the decision to try and get outside assistance and sought out alliances with other species, for better weapons and advanced technologies. They also wanted a way to not be dependent upon the Dritetan ore. This all happened over the space of decades, which soon stretched into centuries.

The Lasiterians were good at sneak attacks and good at running below the Vorloren's radar. They were poor, however, in stand-up army against army fighting. It was recorded that they even faked peace talks to ambush and kill key Vorloren officials and military officers. Both sides developed extensive spying networks to try and find an advantage over the other. The Lasiterians finally got to the point where they didn't just want independence, but they wanted to control the entire Vorloren system and enslave those that were unlike themselves. That, however, was where the similarities between Earth's American Revolution and the Vorloren Civil War ended, and feeling rather overwhelmed at that point, the Captain had stopped reading.

When the Captain was finished with his perusal of Vorloren war history, he didn't know what to think. How much of it was true and how much was propaganda? How much of their history was simply a lie? Something about the whole situation just didn't sit right with Archer. He couldn't identify what that something was, but his gut told him it was something terrible. He had to find out a way to hear the Lasiterians side of the story. He had the feeling that their version would be totally different from one that he had just read about, but would it be lies as well? The possibilities made his head hurt. How did he get himself into these messes anyway?

From time to time, Mac would glance up from her reading, to study her favorite subject, Captain Archer. He had dressed himself in a dark gray, collared, casual, short-sleeved shirt, and black pants. He was sitting in one of the big, soft, reclining reading chairs, with his feet up on a footrest and crossed at the ankles. Whatever he was reading he must have been immersed in, because Mac noticed his brow was furrowed and his mouth had a firm set to it. He was so damned handsome. She tried to remind herself that it was her hormones talking, but she knew it was more than that. She watched as he shut off the PADD he had been reading and put it down on the end table by the side of his chair. Then he rubbed his temples as if his head pained him. "You okay, Jonathan?" she asked him.

He had been so lost in thought about the contents of the history text that it took him a minute to realize Mac had asked him a question. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" He said rather distractedly.

"You just look a little troubled," she said and looked at him thoughtfully.

Her dark brown eyes threatened to pull him into them. He mentally shook himself. It was the hormones talking again, at least that's the excuse he'd use with himself.

"I'm not a fan of war," he commented, "Or being poked and prodded by Phlox half the morning." The Captain had been ordered by Phlox up to _Enterprise_ to go through a complete physical. He went through the imaging chamber routine at least three times. Each time Phlox had a different type of scan to probe into Archer's genetic make-up, from various perspectives. Phlox wanted an accurate and extensive map of the Captain's genome. The doctor took a myriad of tissue samples, from blood to spinal fluid. Archer even had to give the doctor a urine sample. And while it was not a fun experience, if it would help Mac, he'd do it. Mac was to meet with Phlox this evening to tell him all about herself.

"I don't blame you. Doctors and needles are not my favorite things either," Mac told him sympathetically.

Mac knew exactly what he meant about war too. She had been reading about Earth's Third World War. At times she thought she was going to be sick. What Jonathan had told her was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The Eugenics Wars had led to the deaths of thirty to thirty-five million people, but the death toll in the actual Third World War was in the hundreds of millions. It had been a nuclear war. The devastation was unimaginable; everything was laid to waste. It had lasted approximately twenty-seven years. Mac found it difficult to get a good understanding of what truly happened because the records from the time period were so fragmented.

The part that freaked her out the most, however, were the actions of a man called Colonel Phillip Green. He had perpetuated genocide on hundreds of thousands of victims of radioactive fallout. Green had thought them impure and didn't want them to pass down their impurities to future generations. Basically, Earth reverted to a very barbaric state. Many individual rights were ended for a time. For example, legal counsel was not permitted for an accused person. The hate of lawyers became so great in fact, that there was also an attempt to execute all of them during this time period. That, to Mac, was no big loss. The world had plunged into chaos.

Overall though, the transgenic woman was very grateful to be spared the living nightmare that it must have been. She was very surprised to learn that gradually the governments of the Earth started to come together and things were made right again. Progress went on and problems were solved. Earth overcame its tragic descent; humanity finally learned from its mistakes. The thought brought tears to her eyes. They overcame poverty, hunger, hatred, and most disease.

"I'm not a fan of war either," she replied to his first comment. "It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but sometimes it's a necessity. To stop the advance of evil men, you have to be willing to fight back and protect those who depend upon you, even if it means going to war to do so."

"That's what you did, in the Eugenics Wars, right? Fought against the Eugenics tyrants?" Archer was curious to hear a first person account of those times. He had a great-grandfather that had been involved in some of the fighting of the Eugenics Wars in North Africa, but he had only recorded bits and pieces of what happened to him. The Captain told this fact to Mac.

"Yes, it was my job to help stop the Eugenics tyrants from enslaving major sections of the world's populations and to prevent them from killing off all those who they found to be unworthy or unfit to live in their world," Mac explained. "I don't understand why differences can't be celebrated instead of feared and hated."

The Captain agreed with her. "You're preaching to the choir, Mac." He smiled weakly at her. Her exquisiteness again took him aback. She had her hair up in that unique twist that women always seem to know how to do. It allowed him to study her face unobstructed. She had nicely defined cheek bones, a small, partially round and slightly pointed noise, a strong, but feminine jaw line, and of course her dark chocolate, brown eyes. Mac had picked out another leather outfit, similar to the black one she had on the other evening, but this one was a rawhide brown. It hugged her form tightly and left Archer with a nice view of her curves. He had to stop thinking about her that way. She needed his friendship, not his lust. Besides, Hoshi was over in a corner of the library vigorously translating books from all different kinds of genres, from Vorloren into English.

"Tell me about Khan Noonien Singh," the Captain asked of her, trying to keep his mind focused on history and not Mac. Archer had done some research into some of _Enterprise's_ historical databases as well, when he had heard Mac mention the Eugenic tyrant's name. He had read that Khan was considered the "best of the tyrants" because of the way he ruled. He was the one that controlled things behind the scenes, letting others pretend to be the real rulers. Khan had been able to dominate one quarter of the planet, this way. He and other Augments like him were able to seize power throughout the globe through subterfuge and deceit. Aggression was only used when the other methods failed. Khan's goal was to gain complete control without the general public of the world knowing a thing about it before it was too late. Then he planned to rid the world of all those he deemed too weak to survive. He lived like a prince, but only few knew who he truly was.

Khan was the last subject Mac wanted to talk about, but she knew she needed to explain to Jonathan about her past. She owed him that much. "He was very charismatic. He was handsome, strong, intelligent, and he had an air of authority about him. He had a way of making you want to do things for him. I was originally sent to assassinate him." Mac paused here for effect.

Archer visibly blanched at her statement. "You were sent to kill him outright?" That was a tall order.

She smiled sheepishly at him. "Yeah, but that mission didn't go as planned. You could say it backfired in a big way."

"How do you mean?" She really had the Captain's interest now, and even Hoshi had come to sit closer to listen to her story.

"I was sent to kill him, but I ended up joining him," Mac paused again to see what kind of reaction this statement would cause.

Archer was not sure he had heard Mac right. Had she just said she had joined up with the Eugenic tyrant? "Say that again, Mac," he requested of her. Hoshi's mouth hung open as she tried to process what Mac had told them.

The genetically engineered woman knew she had dropped a bombshell on her unsuspecting audience. She had shocked the WGC too, but Mac had had good reason to take the actions that she did. Khan had been wise to her assassination mission against him. He had agents in every part of the world doing his bidding for him. He wanted to use this information to his advantage. Khan also had spies within the Corporation of Scientist and he knew all about Mac's uniqueness. "Someone tipped Khan off to my mission and he was well aware of my background. Had planned a counter-trap and I unwittingly fell right into it," she started to explain.

Hoshi caught on to where Mac was going with her train of thought. "So you pretended to join his cause, rather than let him kill you or use you against your will."

"Exactly," Mac said, pleased with Hoshi's comment. "I still reported everything he did to the WGC and eventually put myself into a position to bring him down once and for all."

The Captain could see why Khan would want Mac with him. Not only did Mac have all her special abilities, but also her beauty was like that of Helen of Troy. Men would go to war over her just to be able have someone like her at their side. "How'd it happen? I mean how'd you gain his trust after he knew you were there to kill him?" Archer found himself fascinated with wanting to know.

"To fulfill my mission of assassination I was to go in undercover as part of a group of exotic dancers Khan had purchased for an important summit he was having with his Eugenics brethren." As Mac went into the details of her story, she became lost in reliving it. Her photographic memory would not let her forget a single moment of the experience.

_The meeting of Eugenics tyrants was to take place at one of Khan's palaces in central India. Mac had created an alias and fake background for herself. She thought she had made it ironclad and airtight, but Khan had been informed of her true identity. Her alias had been that of one Sarina Wolf from Los Angeles. It seemed very appropriate that she assume the name of one of the predatory animals which made up her genome. She would be on the hunt after all._

_Many of Khan's Eugenics brethren were starting to fight amongst themselves, threatening to weaken their hold on the world. They all had an overabundance of ambition that caused them to want complete and total control. Indeed, Khan wanted it all as well. He wanted to dominate them all and be their supreme leader. He was intelligent and strong enough to pull it off too. Convincing his fellow supermen to bend their will to his was proving a very difficult undertaking, though. The Eugenic tyrant had thought that a weekend of food, drink, and the pleasurable company of beautiful women would help sway many to his side. That was where Mac and the group of exotic dancers she was imbedded with came into play._

_The WGC tasked Mac with being able to get Khan's attention focused on her and for her to seduce him into an intimate moment when his guard would be down. Then she was to stab him through the heart. They also wanted Mac to bring them Khan's head as proof he was really and truly dead. Mac was not thrilled by the assignment, but she couldn't refuse and let the cunning villain continue to gain dominance over the planet._

_Mac had played her part to the hilt. She danced as provocatively and as enticingly as she possibly could, trying to gain favor with Khan. Her skimpy white dress, that was extremely short and flowed like liquid over her body, certainly caught his attention. Khan seemed to like that she had eyes only for him and that she worked hard to please him. As the first night of his special conference lengthened, he spent more and more time by her side, ignoring all the advances made towards him by the other women in the group. He also chased away many of his Eugenic kin from trying to make their move on her._

_When it seemed like Khan could take no more of her teasing, he finally brought her to his master bedroom. Despite Mac's aversion to the evil man, the beast inside was heatedly attracted to Khan and the intimacy he wanted from her didn't have to be faked. He was the perfect alpha male, just the kind of mate her beast would choose to have. In the throws of their lovemaking, however, she pulled a knife concealed in her hair clip and went to go through with her mission. To Mac's surprise, Khan was ready for her. His strength was equal to hers and he had caught her off guard. He instantly had her by her throat and cut off her air. His large hands easily wrapped around her smaller neck. She dropped her weapon to try and pry his hands loose._

_Her lungs burned for air and her vision began to blacken, but she felt him drop his guard when he thought she was incapacitated. She used the opening to knee him in the groin with harsh force. He growled in pain and let go. Mac sprung away from his grasp and wrapped a leg around his neck, flipping him on to his back. She elbowed his chin and went for her lost knife. Khan found a way to kick her in the stomach, sending her crashing into the opposite wall. Her breath was completely taken out of her. Mac had hit the wall with such force that she knocked pictures and decorations off the wall and on to the floor._

_Khan was up, off the bed, and after her before she had hit the ground. He kicked her not once, but three times, in the ribs. Mac cried out as she felt some of them snap. The Eugenic tyrant also punched her square in the face with a closed fist. He smashed it into her right cheek and nose. Her nose broke and blood poured down her mouth and chin. Her teeth also cut into her cheek and lip, causing them to bleed. She lay there on the floor collapsed and bleeding, but she wasn't too worried. Mac knew her healing ability would activate momentarily. If she could get Khan to gloat a little, she would heal and be able to strike again. Mac pretended to whimper and moan. She _was_ in pain, but she over exaggerated how much she was really in._

"_They told me you'd be more of a challenge than this," Khan said to her as he stood over her. His voice was very cultured and had a bit of some kind of strange accent to it._

"_Sorry to disappoint you, your Majesty," she said sarcastically. Mac could feel her rib bones knitting back together and her nose repair its damage. The blood flow stopped and she quickly wiped her mouth and chin._

_Khan continued to tower above her. "I had such high expectations of you. It's a pity that you couldn't live up to them."_

_The Chimera in Mac didn't like his condescending tone. He had hurt her, caused her pain. Her beast wouldn't let that stand. Mac's eyes grew their wolfen amber tinge. She looked up at Khan and smiled wickedly. "Then we'll just have to change that opinion, won't we?" the Chimera taunted him._

_The Eugenic tyrant was utterly taken aback by what he saw in front of him. He could have sworn he'd broken most of her ribs and her nose. Her eyes were feral and primeval. She flew up at him, lightning-quick. She hit him once in face and once in the gut, clawing as well as punching. Khan staggered backwards, his face on fire from her nails. He doubled over with pain in response to her punch to his stomach. Mac brought her knee up into his face with enough force to snap his head up and throw him to the floor on his back. His nose was now broken and bleeding profusely._

_Ignoring his pain he kicked up and out so that he was back on his feet again very quickly. He swung at Mac, but she easily blocked his punch. She grabbed his arm and used his forward momentum to flip him head over heels to the floor again. This time she didn't let him get to his feet. She slammed the heel of her foot into his throat. Khan couldn't breathe. He choked and struggled to get air into his lungs. He couldn't get any sound out of his throat either. "Is this more what you expected, Khan?" she hissed at him. "I think I will enjoy tearing your throat out and licking your blood up off the floor." She could smell his fear and it only egged the beast on more._

_In one final effort, Khan kicked out at Mac as she pounced on him, going for his throat with her now elongated teeth. He hit her just right and sent her sailing into the mirrored wall on the other side of the room. It shattered in a shower of glass at her impact. Mac's bare back was slashed and cut where the glass fell on to her skin. Her head whacked the glass with blunt force. She slumped on the ground, literally seeing stars. Khan hit a button near his bed, alerting his security force to his need. He could again breathe, but his voice still wouldn't work._

_Just as Mac went to get up, twenty well-armed men came bursting through the bedroom door. Mac's balance was off, her head not healed yet. The pain was blinding. The blood loss from her wounded back affected her as well. She fell at their feet. She couldn't take on twenty men, not in her current state. Khan finally managed to speak. "Secure her. She is extremely powerful. Put her in one of the newly constructed Plexiglas cells. I don't trust her in a cell with mere bars." His voice was very raspy, but he had it back._

"_Are you sure you want to let her live, my Lord?" his security chief said. "She just tried to kill you."_

"_I know," Khan smiled now. "She is the first to ever get that close. I must find a way to use her, channel her power." After the display she had just shown him, he definitely wanted to keep her. His problem was how to control her. He would find a way, he always did._

_Mac hadn't realized she had actually blacked out, until she awoke in a three-by-three meter clear, plastic looking cell. Khan had decided to construct a dozen or more thick Plexiglas cells, designed specifically to hold Eugenics like himself. He knew that not all of them would be willing participants in his schemes to rule the world as its supreme leader. The Plexiglas walls were several meters think and seemed to go right through the ceiling and the floor, meaning no frail weld lines to weaken the structure. They were virtually unbreakable and bulletproof. Superior strength and aggression would be of no use to a prisoner locked inside._

_The transgenic noticed that there was a sink and toilet provided, at least. She was lying on a cot type bed with a thin blanket and pillow. There were small slits in the door so it could be opened or closed to pass objects in or out of the cell without having to open the entire door. Mac felt the soft richness of a white, terry cloth robe draped around her body. All the gashes and cuts across her back had healed, as well as the wound on the back of her head. Someone had washed her clean of blood and dirt. Her head still hurt a little and the room spun from time to time._

_Mac was horribly depressed. She had failed. Khan had beaten her, and now she knew someone within her own organization had betrayed her, as well as her mission. Mac knew she was in deep trouble. Khan would eventually execute her. She was a threat to his kind of genetic engineering and a threat to him personally. Mac could see out of her cell from all sides, including the top and bottom. The Plexiglas was totally clear. She didn't like the fact that anyone passing by could see right into her cell. She felt very exposed, almost like she was an animal in a zoo. It was a very disturbing feeling._

_Shortly after she became conscious and the dizziness she had first experienced began to fade, she stood and started to pace back and forth in her cell. When she glanced back out into the hallway she found Khan standing in front of her, just outside. He had cleaned himself up and someone had reset his broken nose. A small amount of gauze was taped to its bridge. He was dressed in a rust colored tunic and flared pants. He had pulled his shoulder-length, jet-black hair back from his face in a low ponytail. His dark eyes watched her intently. Mac couldn't help but admire his good looks._

"_The savage beast doesn't like her cage much I take it?" he said mockingly._

"_What do you think?" she spat back._

_Khan smirked at her, very self-satisfied. "I have a proposal for you," he went straight to the point._

"_Forget it," she hissed. She had a very good idea what he wanted. She would die before she joined his side._

"_What, you're not even willing to hear me out, my love?" he said the last part tenderly._

_The term of endearment surprised Mac and then upset her. "Don't call me that. A one-night stand does not make us lovers. Besides, I was sent here to kill you, remember?" The anger was obvious in her voice._

_Khan just smiled more broadly at her. "I know very well what your task was to be. And if you hear me out, we can have much more than a one-night stand, as you so callously put it. I think my offer will please you."_

"_Oh, you do, do you?" She couldn't believe his nerve. "Okay, fire away." Whatever he said, she would never agree to it._

"_You have proven your power and strength. I find you to be very valuable and useful to me. I also find you utterly fascinating as a woman." Khan allowed his eyes to wander over her robed form. "I offer you a partnership. I want you to rule the world by my side, as an equal, not as a lieutenant or subordinate. I would give you the authority to act in my name and command what I command."_

_Mac knew he was serious, but he couldn't think that power and control were that important to her. On the other hand that was all he and his fellow Eugenics wanted out of life. "It's a nice offer, Khan, but no thanks." She was firm._

"_I never made an offer like this to anyone else, even those like myself," he said as he came closer to the cell wall. "There are many females of my kind, but they are nothing compared to you. I must have the best, and McKenna, my dear, you are the very best. Think of the order we could bring to the world. We could end hunger, poverty, war, disease, and crime. Think of the heirs you could give me."_

_Khan even knew her real name. Mac couldn't believe this. He was trying to appeal to her better nature, her desire to help humanity. "I don't think so, Khan." She tried to make it sound final, but a small part of her actually liked what he said. Khan had the strength and the intelligence to achieve the goals he had just laid out for her, but he would kill billions to accomplish them._

"_What if I told you I could help you control the monster inside you that you fear so much?" He played his trump card. _

_Mac stared at him in shock. What didn't he know about her? It unnerved her to her very core. "Many have promised me that," she told him with a voice full of doubt._

"_I can make it happen," Khan stated matter-of-factly. "You're a unique creature, McKenna. As I understand it you are the only one of your kind left. All your brothers and sisters are dead. There is no one else quite like you anywhere in the world. It must be an extremely lonely existence. Ordinary humans fear you and don't fully trust you. I don't fear you. I want to embrace you. I have the world's foremost scientists at my disposal and I have had them working on a drug to help you repress your homicidal tendencies. Join me and I will help you."_

_The bait he was offering was huge. Here was a man that would accept her for who and what she was. He was willing to give her the deepest desire of her heart, to be free of her beast. The temptation was strong and almost overwhelming. Her unyielding resolve was beginning to crumble. How was that possible? She knew why. The WGC had been trying to come up with a treatment for decades and had failed at every turn. They had never been able to truly help her. A dark plan then took shape in Mac's mind. Maybe she could use Khan as he wanted to use her. She could gain his trust and at a later date, when he was vulnerable, let the WGC take him down._

"_This all sounds ideal, but if something is too good to be true, it usually is," Mac told him, trying to still act reluctant._

_Khan was beaming with pride at the fact that he was wearing her down and persuading her. "If I promise something, I follow through, my love. Of course you would have to swear your allegiance and loyalty to me, and I would put those oaths to the test, but I will give you what you want in return. I can fill the loneliness in your life, McKenna. I _am_ capable of love."_

_That need was Mac's greatest. She wanted to be loved more than anything, despite whom and what she was. "And what if I refused this generous offer?" She had to ask._

"_I will kill you and all those you have had any association with," Khan said right up front. Mac knew he could do it too. "Take some time and think it over properly," Khan said, as she had remained silent. "It is a momentous decision to make. Your death may not mean much to you. You may even welcome it, but there are those whom you have come to call friends, even if you do so loosely, and I think their deaths would trouble you deeply." How did he know her so well? It scared her, and yet compelled her to reach out to him at the same time._

Mac now paused in her story to Archer and Hoshi. Trip and T'Pol had come into the library and had heard most of the tale as well. "That Augment bastard really put you between a rock and a hard place, didn't he?" Trip commented.

"Yes, he did," Mac said softly, looking at the marble floor.

"He tempted you with all the longings in your heart and then he threatened those you cared about," Archer said as he shook his head in disgust. "I don't agree with what you did Mac, but I can fully see why you did it."

"And didn't you inform us that you did eventually succeed in pulling him from power?" T'Pol asked politely.

"Yeah, I did," Mac admitted. "But it took three years. I lived as his companion for three years, and some of the things I did in his name were not kind things."

"We're not going to judge you on your past, Mac," the Captain told her and he had come to crouch by her chair. "You did what you thought you had to at the time. I, as Captain, have made some difficult decisions these last four and half years, and many of them may have done more harm than good. I am ashamed to admit that I once had a living being created just so he could donate tissue to my chief engineer and best friend to save his life, and then that being would die. A day doesn't go by that I don't feel guilt over that choice. But I wouldn't take it back and not have Trip sitting here today." Archer's voice cracked as he looked over at Trip. They had talked about the Captain's unusual hostility towards Trip and it was forgiven and forgotten. Their bond of friendship had weathered many storms worse than that one.

Mac went to take Jonathan's hand to give it a squeeze, when she had another sensory memory flash involving a mutually pleasurable act with the Eugenic tyrant. She felt it in every nerve ending in her body, like she was going through the same motions now as she sat in the palace library chair, as she had during their intimate moment. The warmth flowed over her and racked her body with wild sensations. She grabbed the chairs arms and moaned low in her throat. Everything else had faded into the background. Thinking about Khan had been a huge mistake.

TBC

**All right there it is. Let me know what you think. Just a small and short review would make my day. They just let me know how I'm doing. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**I kind of left eveyone hanging with the last chapter, so I thought I'd add this one too. In it I try to explain a little more about Archer and Mac's connection, just a little, and also explain a little more about Mac's condition. I don't want to give everything away, yet. I tried to be as medically correct as I could. If I goofed, I'm sorry. All is not well, as you will see. I thought I'd make things more complicated with throwing in some obsevations that T'Pol and Trip will make. Please read and review. Thanks again to RadcliffePotter for being my beta. She is amazing!! **

**Chapter 10**

"Mac, what's wrong?" Archer stared at her in confusion. She had closed her eyes, gone tense, and was moaning. It worried him. The Captain touched her shoulder and all the wild sensations she was feeling poured into him. The warm and erotic ambiance spread throughout his body. He convulsed with it. He moaned too and his legs gave way under him. He fell to the floor.

"What the hell's happenin' to them?" Trip demanded, really concerned. He leapt to his feet, but T'Pol held him back.

"I don't think it would be wise to touch them," was all she said. Trip gave her a quizzical look, but heeded her advice.

Hoshi came to join the other two watching the show in front of them. She didn't understand what was happening either. Was the Captain alright? What was wrong with Mac? After several tense moments the sensory memory faded and died away. Hoshi noticed that Mac appeared to gain control of herself, but Archer stayed put, breathing hard on the floor. He was still reeling from the stimulus Mac had provided him with. That had been incredible. The images he had seen, along with the intense impressions nearly undid him, made him ache for Mac. If Mac could make him feel like this with just a touch, what else could she do? What was going on?

Mac stood up abruptly trying to compose herself more fully. "I'm so sorry about that," she said, her face beet red with embarrassment. "I didn't know I could pass those sensations on to other people."

"What just happened exactly?" Archer asked from the floor not being able to keep a goofy grin off on his face. "And does that happen to you often?"

Mac wasn't sure how to explain it. It wasn't something that normally happened to her, at least not that she could remember. "I, uh, um, I've uh, I've only had it happen once before," she stammered. "It was when you came to see if I was happy with my choice of quarters. I was standing in the bedroom, just checking it out, and all of a sudden, out of the blue, a sensory memory hit me. I literally relived the memory, like it was happening right then. For some reason they uhhhh, they uhhhh, they tend to be rather intimate," she finally got out. That was an understatement. It had been so intimate Archer couldn't move.

"So this is only the second time you have experience an event like this?" T'Pol asked, trying to appear neutral. Something tugged at her awareness that made T'Pol realize that she should find this situation familiar, but she couldn't fully place what about it was familiar or why.

"That would be an affirmative," Mac said as she paced the room. "I think seeing Dr. Phlox right now might be a good idea."

"Agreed," T'Pol replied, relieved at Mac's suggestion. "I will have Chief Suran contact him and have him join us."

"What about the Captain?" Hoshi asked with concern.

"I'll be fine, Ensign, really," he said in a slurred, drunken voice.

Hoshi looked at her captain skeptically. He certainly didn't sound alright. Her attention was taken away from him, however, as Mac experienced another sensory memory. She couldn't get Khan or his beautiful body out of her mind. She should never have thought about him so much. She hated him so badly, but she also desired him just as badly or at least she thought she had. It was the Chimera that really had wanted Khan. She had loved his strength and power, along with how he tried to nurture her and let her dominate Mac. And it seemed from her point of view like just a few days ago she had been in his arms. Time has passed differently for her in cryogenic sleep. The transgenic was so conflicted over the Eugenic tyrant. All she had wanted to do was destroy him, but yet in the end she had let him live, had let him escape. As the pleasurable vibrations hit her again, she collapsed on the floor next to Archer, until it finally passed. No one dared touch her in that state this time.

Ten minutes later Phlox arrived and moved them all to a room in the palace where he had been able to set up a mini lab. It didn't have everything he needed, but it would suffice for when he couldn't have access to all his equipment on abroad the _Enterprise_. Right now, the Vorlorens were not allowing Mac off the forested moon, so he ushered his patients to the mini lab located on a lower level in the palace. The doctor first scanned Mac with one of his portable medical scanners, and then used some of the Vorloren medical scanning machines. He also ran scans of the Captain.

Phlox's scans discovered a large amount of activity going on in Mac's cerebrum. The cerebrum was the largest part of the human brain, as well as the most evolved part. It controlled a person's perception, imagination, thought, judgment, and decision-making abilities. The doctor recalibrated his medical scanner to center in on the temporal lobe area of Mac's cerebrum. The stimulation throughout her temporal lobe was off the chart. Phlox zoomed in even more to view the inner areas of Mac's temporal lobe.

The temporal lobe of the human cerebrum carried out a wide variety of functions, like allowing a person to interpret sounds, understand language, recognize words and numbers, and it aided in helping people recognize the faces of those around them. Phlox was more interested in the rolled it played in memory formation and recall. The inner areas of the temporal lobe were closely connected with the functioning of the hippocampus, which was devoted to the memorization of experienced events, sometimes called episodic memory.

The highest concentration of activity was here. The over stimulation Mac's episodic memory center was receiving was most likely the cause of her vivid sensory memories. She was recalling specific events she had once experienced as if they were happening to her now in the present. The transgenic woman not only remembered the events from her past, but she was being bombarded with the entire original sensory input and the entire emotional and biological responses to those inputs. At this point, Phlox could only hypothesize as to why this Mac's hippocampus and temporal lobe were so active, but the signals her hippocampus was receiving were the reason she was reliving past events.

The Denobulan doctor had the gut feeling that part of the problem stemmed from Mac being cryogenically frozen for a hundred and fifty years. All of Mac's chemicals, hormones, neurotransmitters, and protein molecules had been unbalanced before she was put into stasis. It now seemed as if all the years of inactivity had made the original imbalances even worse. The other gut feeling he had about Mac's condition was that the constant repression of Mac's animalistic side was backfiring on her. Without any conscious outlet for the conflict, her mind and body found their own way to deal with her opposing sides, the vivid sensory memories. Her mind and body were trying to balance themselves by giving the build up of restrained and divergent emotions and instincts a means of release. But it wasn't working. It was making things worse.

As Phlox widened his scan again, he noticed that Mac's hypothalamus and pituitary gland functions were erratic as well. It appeared as if her whole endocrine system was going ballistic. It was dumping hormones into her bloodstream, but not distributing them properly throughout her body, and it wasn't creating a negative feedback loop to decrease or stop the release of the hormones. What worried him most were the readings he saw around her adrenal glands, located above her kidneys. They were depositing huge amounts of adrenaline into her system. The speed of her heartbeat and the force of each beat were continually increasing. Mac was designed to have her body run at an accelerated rate, but even her body wouldn't be able to handle the increasing stress forever. Her blood pressure and blood flow were steadily building too.

The doctor was concerned because nothing in Mac's body was telling it to stop or slow down. He diagnosed that the super solider needed a way to release endorphins into her bloodstream that could act in her system like a sedative, or a counteractive agent to the high stimulation. In most humans, endorphins acted as a pain reliever or had an analgesic effect to sooth the body. Mac's acted that way too, but they could also balance out all the unnatural levels of her hormones. For some reason, however, Mac was not releasing endorphins. It must have been a defect in her design.

"It seems to me," he told his audience of T'Pol, Archer, Trip, Hoshi, and Chief Suran, "that the scientists that spliced Mac's DNA together, although they were clearly geniuses, were only human, and made a few miscalculations along the way." Then he explained all his findings to them.

"What can we do, Phlox?" Archer asked extremely worried after listening to Phlox's diagnosis.

"Can you not synthesize the endorphins McKenna needs to bring her hormone levels down to an acceptable level?" T'Pol, ever the scientist herself, questioned. The same awareness she had experienced earlier tried again to come forward, but it stopped short of a realization. T'Pol should understand what this reminded her of, but she couldn't quite grasp it. It was right there, but just out of reach.

Phlox had thought of that already. "They wouldn't do her any good. The Gen Virus would see them as an infection or as foreign substances in her blood and neutralize them before they could be of any help to her."

"Are there natural ways her own body could produce the endorphins she needs?" Hoshi chimed into the conversation. "Is there something she could do to make her body recognize her need?"

"I can think of a few suggestions," Phlox told them. "It would be up to Mac to decide which would work best for her."

Mac was only half listening to the conversation. Her brain felt like it was going to ooze out of her skull and the Chimera was roaring angrily at her. The Captain gave her a concerned look and reached out to stroke her cheek. Mac instantly felt the Chimera react to his touch, like a cat that loved to be scratched just under its chin. She liked Jonathan's warmth and his soft touch. "What are your suggestions, Phlox?" Archer requested of the doctor.

Phlox laid out the situation. "McKenna needs to engage in some type of extremely aerobic, stressful, and painful activity to make her body acknowledge the need to produce its own endorphins. Mac has been in stasis for a hundred and fifty years. That's a long time for her to not be active and apparently she needs to be active to get her body to realize it needs to release endorphins. Endorphins are released from the pituitary gland during times of pain or stress. Vigorous, bodily activity induces acidosis to occur in the blood when the flow of oxygen to the muscles starts to decrease. Anaerobic respiration causes lactic acid to accumulate in the muscles. Acidosis is what stimulates the pituitary to release endorphins. The endorphins block neurotransmitters from sending pain signals to the brain, acting as a painkiller. This painkilling effect can also result in a state of euphoria, which is typical of many analgesics. Releasing enough endorphins should help stabilize Mac's bodily systems. It will hopefully balance her out by getting her endocrine system to function the way it should."

"You me like a 'runner's high'?" Hoshi commented.

"Precisely," Phlox came back at her. "Things like say, swimming, running, dancing, sparing, biking, playing a sport, or mating, could all be an activity Mac could try and see if she can push herself hard enough to release the endorphins. Most of what is happening in her body has a physiological cause. But there is something else that is blocking Mac's ability to regulate her endocrine system, and it's a much more psychological cause."

"She fights too hard with herself," Archer supplied for the doctor, understanding Mac's inner turmoil was to blame for some of her condition. The Captain didn't fail to notice the last activity Phlox mentioned. A part of him desperately wanted for her to pick that one and ask him to join her.

"Exactly," the doctor finally smiled. "She needs to pick an activity that her savage side will embrace as well. I believe her internal conflict is a key root of the problem, and only through consensus of both parts of her nature can the problem be overcome. What do you think Mac?"

All eyes turned to her and the transgenic felt put on the spot. There was a part of her that craved to do the last activity that Phlox mentioned. Her beast liked that suggestion too, especially with Jonathan's hand touching her cheek. She rubbed her cheek against his palm, allowing the tingling sensation to travel down her spine. The suggestion appealed to her more reasonable side as well, but she wanted to be with Jonathan because she wanted him as a mate, not because she needed him as a medicine. The Chimera wanted to argue with Mac, but then they both had a thought that they liked almost as much. It would have the same effect, but would be more prudent under the current circumstances and not get them into anymore trouble. Even the Chimera did not want to cause more trouble for her Jonathan.

Part of the thrill of the wild was running free within it. One did not always have to run through the forest with a purpose, such as on a hunt or to flee danger. Running free amongst nature and all it had to offer was very appealing to Mac and the Chimera. No restraints, no holding back, no cage, and no fear. The Chimera could be truly set free and so could Mac. Both of them could enjoy the rush of running through the majestic landscape just outside the palace walls.

A feeling of convergence that Mac had never quite felt before settled over her. For once she and her beast had agreed on something completely. It was a compromise of sorts. The beast could be let out, not to kill, but to run free, without fear or worry of being punished. The Chimera could have some control, while Mac didn't have to give up all of hers. "A long, hard, and strenuous run sounds ideal to me," Mac finally said, really pleased with the decision she and the Chimera had made. Both were confident that the mating suggestion the doctor had given could be indulged in at a later and more pleasurable time with their Jonathan. For when the transgenic made the decision to mate, it would be for keeps, not for a momentary flash of gratification. Mac and her beast had learned that lesson the hard way from Khan. Both needed more than the Eugenic tyrant had ever really given them.

Throughout the entire conversation Trip couldn't help but noticed that way Archer was rubbing Mac's cheek. It bothered him and he didn't know why. Phlox _had_ briefed him and T'Pol about the affect that the Captain could have on the super soldier. Something in Archer's genome elicited a positive response from Mac's primitive side, so close contact was a good thing to help control her beast. Still, seeing the Captain touch Mac upset Trip. He couldn't fathom why. The chief engineer had to mentally restrain himself from knocking his superior and friend on his ass. What was the matter with him? It didn't make any sense. He had no reason to be jealous of Archer. Trip now considered Mac a friend, someone he wanted to help, someone he cared about, but why did he suddenly feel so possessive of her? He'd have understood the feelings if it had been T'Pol in Mac's place, but Mac wasn't T'Pol. Mac wasn't his mate, T'Pol technically was, but Mac could be if he was strong enough to take her. _Now where in the hell did that thought come from? _Trip wondered at a loss to explain where his mind had just gone.

The commander was hopelessly confused. He wanted to lean on T'Pol, gather aid from her Vulcan calmness and focus. He needed an emotional anchor right now. The chief engineer looked over at the Vulcan woman who seemed to know he was troubled. He saw it in her eyes. T'Pol didn't know exactly what he was thinking about when Trip's eyes found hers, but she knew Trip was agitated. He repeatedly changed his hands from resting in the back pockets of his blue jeans to resting them in the front pockets, or he would smooth out his white button down shirt over and over, like he was trying to rein himself in or make himself relax. It was a battle he wasn't winning. The science officer knew she needed to speak to him later. She realized that something was definitelywrong with him.

Phlox had found problems within Archer's scans as well. The Captain's bodily systems were also over stimulated way too much for Phlox's comfort. Archer's testosterone levels were almost fifty percent higher than normal. This fact was beginning to show in some of the more aggressive behavior the Captain was exhibiting, like his anger towards Trip the other evening. Archer's adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine levels were all far beyond the normal range for an average human male. All of those chemicals were causing the Captain's emotions to be highly aroused, his heart rate to be elevated, and they would start to interfere with his ability to sleep, concentrate, or maintain a steady body temperature. Archer seemed to have a slight and constant fever. It seemed to Phlox that Mac was having the opposite effect on the Captain that he was having on her. Where he calmed her and allowed her to think more clearly, she made him more restless and brought his primal instincts closer to the surface. It seemed that helping Mac balance herself would be the only way of helping the Captain return to normal as well. The doctor needed to delve deeper into what was in the Captain's genetic make-up that reacted with Mac's. It still eluded him.

It was right after the doctor's explanation about Archer's condition that the tugging in the back of T'Pol's mind found a way to break forth into her conscious mind. Phlox's suggestions of activities for Mac to try had been key to her realization, especially when he had said "mating". She now knew why these problems Mac and the Captain were having were so familiar. It related to something very private, very guarded, and very deeply disturbing to Vulcans. No one outside of Vulcan society was ever told about it. There were times in every Vulcan's life where all logic and reason was ripped from them and they were left to be ruled by primal, animalistic instincts. It was why Vulcans had a mate chosen for them when they were young, so when that time came, the needs it brought with it could be met with the least amount of attention or possible complications. The only alternative was death. The chemicals in a Vulcan's body became so unbalanced, that unless they satisfied the need to mate, they would die. T'Pol didn't know whether to find the similarities with a Vulcan's pon farr and what was happening with Mac and her affect on the Captain horrifying or fascinating. Humans should not be experiencing this type of condition. It wasn't in their biology.

Archer now turned to Chief Suran, who had been standing quietly in the background taking in all that was said. "Would you give us permission to go for a run around the lake?"

Aster ran a translucent hand through his short, black hair. "If your doctor can assure me that it is necessary and safe."

"It's absolutely necessary," Phlox was adamant. "And I think it's relatively safe."

"I'll agree only if you allow a full contingency of Vorloren guards and your MACOs to monitor your position at all times," Aster told the Captain firmly. "You'd be going with the lady I presume?"

"Of course," Archer replied.

"Good," he said to Archer. He turned to Mac, "I want to help you, milady," he told her, "but I don't fully trust you yet."

Mac understood completely. She was relieved that Chief Suran was being cautious, but lenient too. "I will try and earn your trust, Chief," she said sincerely.

"We shall see," Aster replied. He hoped that Romdel really knew what he had gotten his people into. Aster liked the humans, and he liked Mac, but she scared him, and fear was never a good emotion for a Chief of Security to feel.

TBC

**What do you think? Please let me know. Am I doing okay? Thanks soooo much!!!!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I am only playing with the characters and their environment. I am not making any money off of this. I am doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 20th Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Sorry I've taken a while to update. My beta reader, RadcliffePotter got really busy and a lot of werid things decided to happen in my life. Luckily, LadyRainbow graciously accepted the job to help me out. I want to dedicate this chapter to both of them for their kindess and their wonderful support. I originally had one huge, mega chapter that I was going to post, but LadyRainbow wisely advised that I split it into three. This chapter is the first of the three. The others will be posted soon. Please read and review. Thanks to those of you who do, you guys rock!!!! This chapter is still rated T . There is a little romance involved. Enjoy!!!!**

**Chapter 11**

At first Trip was very reluctant to go running with the Captain and Mac, but when T'Pol mentioned it would be a logical way for the two of them to spend some time together, he quickly changed his attitude. It had been awhile since he had been around her without the prying eyes of the entire crew of the _Enterprise. _If they jogged at a leisurely pace, they could talk and enjoy each other's company, while Mac and Archer ran ahead of them. The Vulcan had thought it a wise idea to have a few more friendly faces around Mac as she let her primal side loose a little. The Captain wouldn't really be alone, but the Vorloren guards and MACOs were impersonal to Mac. She might hesitate more to hurt the Captain around others she had begun to build friendships with, rather than around the influence of mere strangers.

Mac wore short, black running pants and a black tank top made of spandex, which she had borrowed from Hoshi. What the Vorlorens offered didn't appeal to Mac the way the familiar feel and smell of the material that Hoshi's clothes were made of did. She had pulled her long, brown hair into a high ponytail. Archer was also dressed in black running pants and matching tank top. Mac let her eyes wander over his body in the tight fitting clothing. She liked what she saw: his thick, strong arms, broad and muscular chest, well-defined legs, and his nice round behind. Trip's body was equally appealing in his gray, sweat shorts and gray, short-sleeved shirt. He too had thick arms, a broad chest, strong legs, and a nice behind. T'Pol had chosen a white set of short, running pants, and a sleeveless white shirt that zipped up the front. Trip like what he saw in both of the women's attire as well.

The Captain took his time in observing Mac as she stretched to warm her muscles up for the coming run. It hit him how small she was. Her appearance was very deceiving; her small size made her appear harmless, but Archer knew better. He was much bigger than she was, but she could take him down in a heartbeat. That, and the fact she was so attractive, was unnerving. One would never see the monster coming until it was too late. He prayed this "vigorous activity", as Phlox had called it, would help her.

"You and Mac run as fast or as slow as you want, Jon," Trip said to the Captain. "T'Pol and I are going to take our time and enjoy the sights."

"Sounds good, Trip," Archer replied. "I'll keep up with Mac for as long as I can. Then I'll stay nearby as she pushes herself as far as she needs to."

Mac smiled at the Captain's words. He was going to try and keep up with her huh? She liked the idea of him trying to challenge her, but she doubted it would last very long. "You ready, Jonathan?" she asked as she got ready to run.

"Lead the way," he told her. "But start out at a slower pace and gradually work up. I'm in pretty good shape, but I am not as young as I used to be." He said this with a sheepish smile.

Mac laughed and it sounded musical. "All right, I'll take it easy on you for a little while, but then I want to see what you're made of, Captain Archer."

Archer accepted her challenge with a nod. He didn't know what he was in for, but he was sure it wouldn't be boring. She started out a normal brisk run, not really slow, but not so fast that they couldn't talk for lack of air. As they started to run, he kept pace with her. It was late afternoon and the shadows cast by the myriad of trees and other foliage were long and drawn out. The path was a thirty-kilometer loop, all the way around the lake, well-traveled and distinct. Archer knew he would never make it even half the way around, but he would go as far as he could, and then let Mac do her thing.

The sun steadily sunk lower in the sky. The lake appeared to sparkle in the sunlight, a deep and clear blue. Birds chirped and small mammal flitted here and there across their path. The distant hills and the towering mountains behind the lake's northern shore were a splash of rich green. Flowers of every color and description dotted the land. Some areas of the forest were so dense that they couldn't see through them, while other areas opened up into vast meadows. Mac was in heaven. This felt so natural and so right. It felt really, really good.

The Captain and Mac talked about the various sights they saw as they ran. It was fun to hear each other's thoughts on the majestic scene they had before them. Each of them saw things a little differently, but the differences complimented each other, and both of them liked the new perspectives they received from one another. After about twenty minutes, however, Mac needed more.

"I'm going to go faster, Jonathan," she informed him. "Your welcome to try and keep up, but I need more of a challenge."

"Go for it," he told her with an encouraging smile. "Don't let me hold you back. I'll keep up until I absolutely can't, and then I'll slow my pace if I need to."

Mac shifted gears and increased her pace. Archer was able to meet it without too much strain. The transgenic continually picked up the pace until she was pulling way from the Captain, and he struggled to keep up with her. His lungs were heaving and his muscles were on fire, but he didn't want to lose her, not yet. Finally, Mac shot out ahead of him and left him in the dust. She became a blur of motion. Then the genetically engineered woman veered abruptly off the path and took off into the woods. Archer tried to keep up a speed that allowed him to at least catch a glimpse of Mac through the trees. He didn't want to lose sight of her completely.

From his limited vantage point the Captain watched Mac in amazement. She literally flew through the forest. She never stumbled or ran into anything that might have been an obstacle to him. The transgenic leapt over fallen logs in graceful bounds. Large boulders and gargantuan trees stumps she ran up and over, sometimes hopping from one impediment to another with the finesse of both her wolf and leopard kin. It appeared as if she literally ran up the side of some of the huge rocks and enormous rotted-out trees to get to where she was headed. She never collided with any of the unevenly spaced trees, brushes, or other plants that sprung up everywhere. To Archer it was like watching a great predatory animal journey through its natural habitat. Mac was in her element.

The super solider loved the way the wind blew over her as she ran through the wild. Mac felt the Chimera constantly nudging her to let her beast enjoy the feralness of it all. Mac hesitated for a brief time, but then let her primitive self fully come out. Her enhanced senses all kicked in, giving her the ability to charge through the trees and the underbrush with no hindrances. Her eyes took on their amber color, the color of a wolf's eyes. She still felt her conscious mind in control, as well as her primal nature at work in her. It was exhilarating to be fully aware of what she was doing and how her body was doing it. Her sight, smell, and hearing took in her environment and her mind processed all the information with stunning clarity. The smells were many and sweet to her. The numerous sounds were comforting.

Mac could feel the blood flowing through her veins and arteries, her heart hammering in her chest at a fast, but steady rate. As she pumped her leg and arm muscles to push her forward and to keep herself in motion, she felt the strength and power they had. The air tasted of nature as it passed in and out of her lungs. The wind on her face was soul-cleansing. The genetically engineered woman was being energized and she felt alive.

Every item around her came into sharp focus and she felt at one with the land that was hers to command. There wasn't anywhere she couldn't go, nothing she couldn't do. Mac was highly aware of the pounding of her feet on the ground and where they needed to go when a change in terrain came at her. She knew exactly how much pressure to put into her feet hitting the ground to almost run silently. The transgenic could react to any sensory input immediately, and almost anticipate what was to come next. Mac had never allowed her conscious self and her beast to merge together so unopposed before. The sheer ecstasy of the experience spread through out her entire being. She had true freedom and true euphoria.

She had to share these feelings with someone.

Mac knew she had left Jonathan far behind, but she could smell his wondrous, earthen scent and hear the rapid thumping of his heart and breathing. The super solider slowed her pace to allow him to catch up to her. As he drew nearer, his scent washed over her and through her. It added to her jubilant emotions. "Take my hand," she told him as he reached her. She slowed down her speed and extended her hand out to him.

The Captain tried to answer her, but his breath was coming heavily from his exertions. Instead of voicing his confusion, he gave it to her in a look. "Do you trust me, Jonathan?" That was a loaded question. Archer noticed her wolf-like eyes and was wary. Mac seemed in control of herself. She wasn't in any kind of wild frenzy. Finally, after sizing her up, he nodded his response. "Then take my hand. I want to show you what it's like to be me." He marveled at the fact that she wasn't breathing very hard, after the way she had sped off earlier.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep going," he huffed, but slid his hand into hers. He did trust her.

"Let me do all the work then," she replied and tightened her grip on his hand and part of his arm. With that she pulled him along with her as she sped into the woods again. Mac practically carried him along by her side. As she vaulted and sprung up and over obstacles, he went with her. As she dodged around and through tree trunks and past thick brush, he did too. She was completely supporting him as she ran through her playground.

Archer felt the wind blow all around him and it invigorated him. Being able to scale the boulders, fallen trees, and huge outgrowing tree roots without tripping or running smack into them was exciting. Barely missing the barriers that came out of nowhere thrilled him to the core. Mac wasn't letting him be hurt in anyway, constantly alert and aware of how she needed to guide him. He had to work his muscles and force himself to stay with her, but she did most of the hard stuff for him. He loved all the sensations this unfettered flight through the wild brought to him. He had never experienced a freedom quite like this before. It was a high that he could only realize because of Mac. He wondered what she was feeling and if it was anything like the elation he felt.

After several kilometers Mac gradually slowed, and then started into a power walk to cool down. She was breathing much harder now and Archer could see that her skin was covering in sheen of sweat that made her glimmer. He was drenched with sweat too, and his breathing was very labored. His legs were beginning to get rubbery. The power walk lasted another kilometer and then she stopped at the edge of the lake. "Chief Suran said this lake was clean enough to drink from. Nothing around here is allowed to pollute it under the orders of their king. I think a cool drink sounds good right now, don't you?" Mac said to the Captain.

"Sure does," he managed between huffs and puffs. They both crouched down and cupped the lake water into their hands. It was rich, cool, and sweet to the taste. It refreshed and replenished them. Archer couldn't get over the intense emotions he was feeling. They were mind-blowing, but they felt very natural and very right.

"So what did you think?" Mac asked of Archer as she started to stretch her muscles again.

"Wow, doesn't even begin to cover it," Archer gushed. "That was probably the most incredible experience I have ever had. It's almost better than ---," he stopped himself.

Mac looked at him slyly. "It was almost better than what, Jonathan?" she baited him.

He had been going to say "sex", but then realized how silly that would sound. He just looked innocently at her. "Almost better than making love?" she supplied for him.

The Captain's face colored slightly at her comment. It was as if she had read his mind. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Well, you haven't had that spectacular experience with me yet," she unashamedly informed him. Mac was flirting with him now. His hazel-green eyes met her still wolfen-amber ones. They were full of emotions that Archer couldn't define, but he liked what he saw in them. There was something very alluring and seductive about her lupine-like eyes.

"That's true," the Captain commented as he stepped closer to his exquisite running companion. "And it's something I'm willing to experiment with."

"I am glad to hear that," Mac put herself inches from him, "because so am I."

Two more steps and they were in each others arms. Both the human and the beast within Mac wanted him. Their lips met in a long, drawn out, fierce kiss. Mac ran her hands up his back, and backed him up into a titan-sized tree trunk. Yesterday, both he and Mac had slept in until very late in the morning, almost into the afternoon, recovering from the lack of sleep the night before. The transgenic had then given him a full massage that would have rivaled any of the masseuses on the pleasure planet of Risa. She had been able to work out the pain and swelling in his lower back, until it ceased to bother him. Mac caused no pain now when she caressed his back and shoulders, and forced him against the tree. She then shifted to rub her hands up and down his chest.

In this intimate moment he ceased to be Captain Archer; he was just her Jonathan, and Jonathan responded in kind. His mouth slid to her chin and he trailed kissed down her throat, then along the part of her collarbone that wasn't obscured by her tank top strap. His hands started to roam her body, as hers were his. She slid one of her hands into his short, brown hair, massaging his neck and skull as she did. She brushed her fingers along the line of teeth impressions that were still visible on his neck and part of his back. "I am sorry about these," she purred, "but a girl has to mark her territory."

Jonathan couldn't help how pleased he was by her statement. He wanted to be hers, all of him, and he wanted her to be his. Their mouths met again and the passion it ignited was a roaring bonfire, compared to the sensory memory of fiery wantonness that they had shared earlier. Jonathan wasn't going to resist her this time. Every nerve he had was filled with the pleasure of her. He was about to take the next step to carry them further into their new vigorous activity, when she suddenly stopped and turned to look behind her. It was enough to snap him back into reality. His "captain" persona tried to step forward again.

"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.

She gently put a finger to his lips silencing him. It wasn't done in a harsh or forceful way, but he knew she was serious. Even with that realization he still couldn't stop himself from brushing his lips long that deliciously sweet finger. Jonathan wasn't gone completely. Mac had frozen in his arms. She listened intently to the woods around them. Her eyes had dilated like a wide-angle lens. She sniffed the air with deep and purposeful breaths.

Archer knew exactly what she was doing this time. As they had lain in her luxurious bed for nearly half the afternoon yesterday, she had told him all about the incident out on the balcony. She explained why she had jumped down to the forest floor and ran into the woods. The transgenic had informed him about many of her skills and abilities. He had listened, captivated by her retelling of the events he had witnessed. She even confided in him about the overwhelming primal rage.

"It's probably just Trip and T'Pol, or some of the security people Chief Suran sent to watch us," he whispered in her ear.

Mac placed two fingers to his lips, more firmly this time. She needed him to be quiet. He got the point and stopped talking. He couldn't stop touching her, however. His hands still roamed her body. He leaned his head into her neck and nuzzled it softly. Mac was very aware of his administrations, but another part of her was attuned to the danger she was sensing. The scent she caught was not the sickly sweet, burnt sugar smell from the other night. The smell was most definitely ammonia based. Maybe Jonathan was right and it was just the Vorloren bodyguards that had been ordered to tag along, at a distance. Something wasn't quite right though. Something seemed wrong and out of place. She heard the crackling of leaves, the snapping of twigs, and the pounding of many footfalls. She thought she saw movement in the trees behind them.

The Captain felt her go rigid in his arms. What was wrong? What was she sensing? Out of nowhere came the green flash of a Vorloren pulse rifle. Mac, anticipating it a split second before it happened, pushed herself and her Jonathan to the ground avoiding the plasma weapon's fire. Another weapon fired from a different direction and hit the Archer in the shoulder. It sent a wave of pain and then numbness down the entire length of his right arm. It only partially stunned him. The weapon must have been set on a very low setting. Mac didn't know that. All she knew was that someone had hurt her Jonathan.

TBC

**I left everyone hanging on purpose. :) More will follow, promise. Let me know what you think.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the idea that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Sorry it has been so long since I posted last. I hope you all haven't forgotten about me. I haven't forgotten about all of you wonderful readers out there. My life decided to get a little crazy on me all of a sudden. I moved and my dad got really, really sick. But, I'm back now and hope to be more regular at posting new stuff. Anyway, I left off with a cliffhanger and thought that I would start again with a little TnT interlude. I have really been inspired lately by some of the stories I have read recently on this site dealing with the TnT relationship. Hope you like it. The next chapter will get back to the action. Please read and ****review****. I need something positive to buoy me up right now. Thanks a bunch to my new beta LadyRainbow. This chapter was done at her wise suggestion. She is a great editor. Enjoy! **

**Chapter 12**

T'Pol and Trip were experiencing a pleasant jog together, enjoying the approaching sunset and the clean, crisp air. Being out in nature did wonders for both of their attitudes. Trip seemed to relax and let go of part of his earlier agitation, although some of it was still palpable to T'Pol. The moon's climate was more Earth-like than the hot, dry climate of Vulcan, but it gave her a sense of relief that she hadn't even been aware that she needed. After a few kilometers into the woods, T'Pol finally decided to try and ask Trip about his earlier state of mind and the continued undercurrent of fretfulness and disconcertion she sensed coming from him. The atmosphere was conducive to a private chat, and T'Pol logically reasoned that it was now or never.

"Trip," she started out tentatively as they jogged at a leisurely pace in no hurry to be anywhere. "Are you all right? You do not seem fully yourself. You act in a manner that suggests that something is bothering you. I can discern your feelings through our bond."

One interesting side effect of Trip and T'Pol having gotten to know one another intimately was that it somehow created a psychic bond between them. Since Vulcans had some telepathic abilities, when they took a mate, they not only bonded physically, but mentally as well. This insured a long and lasting pairing for Vulcans.

It had surprised both T'Pol and Trip that this mental bonding could take place between a human and a Vulcan. It hadn't been done consciously, that was for sure; it had been an accident really. It had also been quite disquieting at first, but as the bond grew and as time went on, both T'Pol and Trip had been comforted by their mental bond. They could be in each others thoughts and be able to feel each others needs. This had been a blessing and a curse, especially when their daughter Elizabeth had passed away. Although the infant had been created from T'Pol's and Trip's DNA and not conceived by T'Pol herself, it didn't make the beautiful baby any less theirs. Her death had not been easy on either of them.

To the Vulcan woman's surprise Trip opened right up to her and didn't as humans would say "beat around the bush." He started out with, "I can't hide anythin' from you anymore can I?" It was a rhetorical question to which T'Pol raised one exquisitely arched and pointed eyebrow at. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know what's wrong with me, T'Pol. This is gonna sound funny, but I think that Mac is havin' some weird effect on me."

"McKenna?" T'Pol asked, taken by surprise. The human super soldier was the last topic T'Pol had thought that Trip would want to discuss. For a Vulcan, T'Pol was beginning to feel a great sense of unease.

"I know that it's strange, but I'm experiencin' a great feeling of possessiveness towards her," Trip tried to explain.

"Possessiveness?" T'Pol parroted. "Please expound on what you mean?"

Trip sighed heavily, but continued to jog. "Whenever I see the Cap'n touch her or stroke her cheek, I wanna deck him," he admitted guiltily. His face turned red as he spoke. "It's like I feel she belongs to me and no one else should touch her. That's completely absurd, I know," he added hastily. "I've barely met her. She's a great lady, someone who could become a terrific friend, but these feelin's or sensations go way beyond that. I can't explain 'em. Sure she's attractive and nice on the eyes, but I'm not _that _shallow."

T'Pol didn't know how to respond to Trip's confession at first. A flash of emotion shot through her as he spoke and it took her a few moments to process it and identify it: _jealousy_. The Vulcan woman realized she was jealous of Trip's attraction and affection towards the genetically engineered human. This troubled T'Pol because her emotional control was slipping again, and it always happened around Trip more than anyone else.

The chief engineer went on with his explanation when T'Pol remained uncharacteristically quiet. "I've never experienced the effect the Orion females' pheromones have on most men. You know the ones they use to bend men to their will and enslave them. They tried to take over the _Enterprise_ that way and make Cap'n Archer give his ship over to 'em. Even women were affected by 'em, remember, dizziness and horrible headaches? Phlox thought that effect helped cut out the Orion females' competition for the men they were after."

"Expect for myself," T'Pol interrupted. "I was not affected by their pheromones. I had an immunity to them because of my Vulcan physiology, and through our psychic bond I passed that immunity on to you. You were able to resist them and take the ship back from the Orion's control. But I do not understand how that applies to the transgenic." It was true that through their bond T'Pol and Trip had gained some of each others' personality traits and some of each others' physiological traits.

Trip laughed at T'Pol's confusion. "Ya gotta let me get to that part," he said.

T'Pol just looked at Trip for a minute and then grew quiet again, trying not to stumble as she ran. The chief engineer smiled a little smirk at her. He loved to teased her and fluster her. She always rose to the bait and it forced her to be more straightforward with him. "Mac is somehow messin' with the Cap'n's hormones and bodily systems, right? What if it's not just the Cap'n that can be affected? What if Mac may be able to influence other males too? What if she has some kind of pheromone deal goin' on like the Orions did?"

"And you want to know if our bond could help give you an immunity to McKenna?" T'Pol reasoned out.

"Yeah. I mean it worked then, why wouldn't it help now?" Trip wanted to know. It was bugging him that their bond didn't appear to be protecting him this time. He liked Mac, a lot, but he didn't like being out of control of himself. He felt sorry for Archer, who seemed to be getting the brunt of the reaction. Then maybe again Mac was worth it.

The Vulcan commander wished their bond could help Trip and protect him. She was experiencing the feelings and emotions of possessiveness toward the chief engineer, like he was describing about his toward Mac. Somewhere along the way he had become hers. They had developed a strong friendship, mutual trust in and affection for one another, plus they had been intimate the only way a man and a woman could be, forging a bond between them. All that was missing was some type of official ceremony. She and Trip were technically mates. They had even had a child together, in a round about way.

These thoughts and realizations shook T'Pol's logic and reason to their foundations. How could this happen between a Vulcan and a human? Why did Trip affect her this way? Why did she need him in her life so strongly now? He, who was a whirlwind of emotion, was now an anchor to her in her own struggle for emotional control. Even though he was the cause of her slip ups, he still held much of the confusion back. Trip knew and understood her plight, and he helped her to focus on what was truly important.

"I do not know why our bond could not or is not helping you," she finally told him, her light brown eyes the only outward sign she was deeply troubled. "Vulcans may or may not be affected by whatever pheromones McKenna might be producing. No one has ever encountered a being like her. She is only partly human; the rest of her genetic make up comes from what Vulcans would consider primitive lifeforms."

"You mean animals from Earth?" Trip interjected a question at that point.

"Yes," T'Pol answered. She tried to choose her next words carefully; she didn't want to offend the chief engineer, but she had to be blunt too. "I do not believe that human and Earth animal DNA should have ever been combined. The outcomes are too volatile, too unpredictable, and too unstable. Humans have enough problems with controlling their more basic natures without the addition of wild animals' primitive instincts as well. Animals are not self-aware. They can't think logically or reason like humans can. It appears, at times, that the basic animal instincts are stronger than McKenna's rational mind. McKenna's entire existence is a colossal mistake."

Again T'Pol's mind was pulled back to the parallel between the savageness of Vulcan's past and the transgenic. The Vulcans of that time had been so much like Mac. Logic and the teachings of Surak had saved them from extinction, but not before extreme amounts of bloodshed and the loss of many, many lives. Vulcans at one time had been very feral. It was unnerving to T'Pol to recall that fact because of Mac.

T'Pol herself was dreading her own time of pon farr, the time when she would return to a primitive state and no reason or logic would help her. She was actually terrified of what Trip would think of her during that time. It wasn't the act of mating that it drove Vulcans to that scared her, she and Trip had enjoyed that experience already, but she truly feared herself reverting back to the animalistic state of a primitive Vulcan in front of him. What if she hurt him? Vulcans were many times stronger than humans. What if she repulsed him? What if he rejected her? All these thoughts were becoming nearly unbearable, and T'Pol didn't want to be contemplating them.

"I wouldn't go that far," Trip said in defensive of Mac. "There's alotta good in Mac, alotta potential to do great things. But it does all come at a very high price. I think that you may be on to somethin' in your ideas about her animal DNA, however," he added

"I do not follow," T'Pol said lost again to where Trip was going with his thoughts.

"Maybe her effect on me and the Cap'n is just all that animal DNA she has. Maybe it's a dominant male attraction deal," Trip explained as he continued to jog along side T'Pol.

"What do you mean?" T'Pol asked, still wanting him to elaborate. Her mind going back once again to the parallel of a Vulcan's most dreaded and hidden need, the pon farr, and Mac's situation.

"Well, the Cap'n and I have been good friends for years now," Trip explained. "Maybe some of our habits, or mannerisms, or whatever have rubbed off on each other, and maybe Mac can sense that. The animalistic side of her may see me as another potential mate so she sends out certain signals to me, and the more primal side of me responds to them just like the Cap'n's does. Just not as strongly, cause I don't have in my genome whatever it is the Cap'n has in his that reacts to Mac so powerfully. Jon seems to have somethin' about him that calms her beast, somethin' specific to him. But I'm still male, however, and for some reason that Phlox will have to figure out, I'm drawn to her. It's like she's a female in heat or somethin'."

T'Pol now eyed Trip warily. What Trip was telling her was confirming her fears more and more. Still, the Vulcan scientist in her was skeptical. "What are you basing all of these assumptions on, Commander?" she asked carefully.

"When the Cap'n came and apologized to me for treatin' me so harshly a few nights ago, he talked about a wolf pack analogy that Mac uses to understand herself and how the primal part of her views the world around her. Mac's primal side sees Jon as the dominant male in his pack, the _Enterprise_ crew, and she as a dominant female views him as a potential mate. Other males in the pack, if they can impress or show up the dominant male, can have a shot at being a potential mate too."

He paused as they had to decide to go back south or continue on a path that would lead them farther north. Then he continued on when they chose to go back south, "With the way Mac's affectin' Jon's hormones, he tends to respond to her as a potential mate for himself as well, since his primal side considers her a dominant female. This is bringin' out the Cap'n's primitive instincts in that regard and causin' him to be very possessive of Mac. He, like any dominant male, doesn't like other males honin' in on his choice for a mate. Jon, from time to time, is viewin' other male crewmembers as threats to his dominance, when it comes to Mac, and he reacts accordingly. So when he saw me givin' Mac a comfortin' hug, it made Jon lose his cool. And now it's affectin' me a little too for some unknown reason."

"It appears that McKenna affects human males in a way that Vulcan physiology cannot help with, as it did with the pheromones that Orion females gave off," T'Pol hypothesized as she digested what Trip was saying. "Maybe we could use the bond to help you stabilize your emotional responses, and therefore stabilize your physical responses to the 'signals' she sends out to potential mates. It might be worth observing if she has this effect on other males as well. If she does, then we will know that you don't have an abnormality in your physiology." The Vulcan commander said this all very coolly, like it was just another every day thing, but inside T'Pol was very disturbed. She didn't want another female honing in on her mate either. This thought startled her. She and Mac were beginning to have way too much in common. How could a human relate so much to a Vulcan, in such a primitive way? It was as terrifying as it was fascinating.

T'Pol's worries also took Captain Archer into consideration. She had come to respect and admire her commanding officer. He had moments where he acted rather emotionally and illogically; he was only human. But in many insistences he had proven himself a very skilled diplomat, a hardy battlefield commander, and an intelligent explorer. Through watching Archer, T'Pol had come to appreciate the human race in general. However, T'Pol did not like how Mac was influencing him because it was dangerous. T'Pol didn't want to see Archer's mostly rational and composed self stripped away from him because of Mac. She didn't want to see him act like a primitive Vulcan either because it was just something that she didn't wish anyone else to have to experience. T'Pol found it to be humiliating and debilitating.

"Sounds good to me," Trip told her. "I can only handle one woman in my life right now, if she'll still have me," Trip said the last part very contritely. He was still crazy about the Vulcan woman. Hell, he loved her more than she could ever know.

T'Pol was touched. Trip was still willing to wait for her to come to terms with all her new emotions and how she controlled those new emotions. He would wait as she relearned how to be Vulcan and reexamined the Kir'Shara, the originally writings of Surak. Again, when T'Pol really thought about her relationship with Trip, she knew that she cared deeply for him. She couldn't picture her life without him. But how could she be with him? It was something she need more time to analyze and work through. Down in the depths of her katra, she wanted to be with Trip. Once in an alternate timeline she had made the choice to marry him and have a son with him. She could make that same choice in this timeline too, given she had the courage to make that choice. She decided to speak what her heart was telling her despite what logic dictated. "She will Trip, in time, she will," and T'Pol had left it at that.

Trip felt a shot of elation rush through him at T'Pol's statement. She was not shutting him out, and she was not turning him away. The lovely Vulcan woman was not lost to him. He would have to be patient and steadfast to hold on until she came around, but now with just a few words she had given him hope. It was a huge relief to him. He now had something real to grasp and not just an intangible thought in his own mind. He literally beamed at T'Pol with his boyish smile, that she had to admit was very alluring. Trip thought he caught the corner of her mouth turn slightly upward in response.

They then turned the conversation to catching each other up on what the rest of the crew had been doing. Malcolm had only been down to the moon a few times. He was mostly manning the bridge because he felt his presence there would be more helpful at the moment. Travis had been down on the moon hiking, swimming, and touring the palace. Hoshi was busy doing the public relations bit. T'Pol had tried to split her time evenly on the moon and the ship. Trip had only checked on his precious engines once, and he told her he probably should again soon.

"Maybe we should get Travis or Malcolm to spend some time around Mac and see if they have any kind of funky reaction to her like you talked about earlier. Then I would know it's not just me, or if it is," Trip suggested after they had stopped to admire the view of the lake and mountains from their current position.

T'Pol tilted her head to look at Trip, seriously considering his idea. "Ensign Mayweather may be a better choice for a test than Lieutenant Reed," she stated.

"Why'd you say that?" Trip asked puzzled.

"Lieutenant Reed has been strongly…..intimidated," T'Pol sought for the right word, "by McKenna and his reaction might be influenced by his initial exposure to her. Ensign Mayweather on the other hand has no such bias. He is genuinely gregarious with everyone he meets. His reaction would be a better one to judge our theory by."

Trip smiled slyly at T'Pol, secretly enjoying the sight of her in her white running outfit. "_Our _theory?" he questioned with a tease in his voice.

"We both contributed to its creation, so I would say that logic would dictate that, yes, it is _our_ theory," T'Pol came back at him.

"Okay, I'll concede the point," Trip told her. "And I'll seriously consider askin' Travis to try and talk to or be around Mac for a little while to see if he feels anythin' like how I've felt."

T'Pol rolled her eyes at him, clearly playing along with him. "You won't have to consider anything if I approach Ensign Mayweather first."

Trip looked at her in mock horror. "You wouldn't?" he said faking shock.

Whatever T'Pol's answer would have been was cut off by a sudden burst of loud noise. The noise continued beginning to sound like a battle had started. How could that be, out here in the woods? Trip then looked at T'Pol with questions in his eyes. "What the hell's that?" he asked, and then he added, "It sounds like particle weapons fire, and was that a concussion grenade I just heard?"

The usually stoic Vulcan looked at him with alarm. "We had better go and see what it is. The Captain might be in danger," she said and started to run off in the direction of the fighting.

"T'Pol!" Trip yelled. "Wait for me!" he exclaimed as he took off after her deeper into the woods.

TBC

**Let me know what you think please!!!!! I need the inspiration that feedback can provide. For all of you who do review, you rock!!!!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the idea that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Here is a chapter I really had fun with. A little warning to everyone: this chapter is pretty violent. It contains battle, fighting, and some bloodshed. It's not "over the top", but if that kind of thing bothers you, you don't have to read. Also there is a little bit of language that is somewhat harsh. Again nothing too offensive, but just know that it's there. I tried to be realistic, but not go against this site's standards either. I hope you get as much enjoyment out reading it as I had writing it. Mac is a terrific character for me to explore the dark side with. Please leave a review. It would make the author's day. :) Thanks once again to LadyRainbow for her time in beta reading this chapter for me. I broke up the parts that I changed points of view on to hopefully help readers follow what's going on better. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 13**

Mac felt the Chimera's anger flare as she saw her Jonathan take a hit from a pulse weapon, but she was able to keep it in check, for the moment. In the blink of an eye she grabbed her Jonathan and placed him behind an enormous tree out of harm's way. After making sure he was all right, she bolted off to face the enemy. More weapons fire came at her, but she outran it, staying just ahead of the explosions it left in its wake. The super soldier ran sideways up and across several of the trees to avoid another volley of fire. She could now make out a mass of Vorloren soldiers that had surrounded her and Jonathan. How could she be so stupid? A good soldier never let the enemy have the advantage or take them by surprise.

The Chimera pushed at Mac to let go of her conscious control again. Mac needed to protect Jonathan, but she didn't want to kill the Vorlorens either. Why were they attacking them? The Chimera became more and more insistent. She wanted in on the fight. Part of Mac's logical side knew she needed the Chimera's strength to fight off all the soldiers, but she didn't trust her beast, especially when her Jonathan had been shot at. It was too risky to let the monster inside her take over completely.

From somewhere deep inside her, the Chimera promised not to kill, if she could have control. Mac struggled back and forth, while more of the Vorloren soldiers were closing in on her and the Captain. Finally, Mac gave in; she needed her beast too badly not to. Power and strength flowed into every muscle and nerve in the transgenic's body as she accepted the Chimera's control. All her senses went on high alert and her mind fully processed everything they saw, heard, smelled, and felt. The Chimera's predatory instincts slid into place along side the conscious, strategic part of Mac's mind.

Two soldiers approached from the south, through a clump of thin trees. Mac leapt into the air heading right at them. She kicked the rifle out of one of the soldier's hands with one leg and knocked the other soldier to the ground with a kick from her other leg as she arched through the air. The Chimera's first instinct was to grab a pulse rifle and blow the other soldiers to pieces with it. Mac, however, took notice of the hard, metal batons the soldiers had clipped on their belts. With a right cross, she punched the still standing soldier to the ground beside his fallen comrade. Then she retrieved the batons from each of their belts. The batons were about as thick as a golf club handle. They seemed too short, until it became obvious that they extended out to about a meter in length.

The Chimera actually like Mac's idea of using them instead of the plasma weapon. It would be much more of a challenge to take out the soldiers with them, rather than a gun. The Chimera also liked the physical contact she could have with the soldiers using the batons. Her attack could be more aggressive and personal, and she could strike and not kill, if that was what Mac really wanted. It was a compromise the beast could live with, for now.

* * *

Every time Archer tried to peek around the gigantic tree's trunk, a hail of plasma weapon's fire came at him. The tree sizzled and burned each time it happened. Obviously the Vorlorens weren't playing around anymore. There was no way for him to see what was happening to Mac, let alone any way for him to go and help her. He feared that the Chimera would go on a killing spree. He couldn't figure out why the Vorlorens would attack them. What had he and Mac done? Were they not supposed to drink out of the High Monarch's precious lake, or what? If he lived through this, he would ream Romdel up one side and down the other for this outrage. He would give Chief Suran a piece of his mind too.

* * *

Mac tested the batons' weight and balance in her hands. She twirled them clockwise around and around in front of her, then counterclockwise. She flipped them around at different angles for blocks and strikes, starting with slow movements and increased her speed, until her hands and arms were a blur of motion all in seconds. Satisfied with her new toys, she set out to use them on the Vorlorens attacking her and Jonathan. One quick glance with her zooming ability told her he was still safe behind the tree where she had put him.

The green pulse rifle bursts came at her again and she dodged each one. She concentrated on the sound of the soldiers' movements, the pulling of the triggers, and the discharges of the pulses of light. As she did this, she could predict when and where the fire would come from and avoid being hit by it all in the flash of a lightning strike.

Mac came up close behind a group of five soldiers. She lashed out at them with the batons aiming for shins, kneecaps, groins, guts, shoulder blades, chins, and sides of the soldiers' heads. The transgenic woman was controlled and precise in the way she struck at her enemies. She calculated every move and every action. Her hits were hard, some hard enough to break bone, but not enough to kill. Her goal was to knock them unconscious or cause them enough pain to stop them in their tracks. In the softer areas of the body she hit, she let up on the blows. She didn't want massive internal injures to kill them either.

The Chimera was powering her, but did not lead her on in a blind rage. This was almost as exhilarating as the run she had just had. Kicking ass and taking names was fun. The five Vorloren soldiers lay on the ground, weaponless, some moaning in agony, while others were knocked senseless. As they fell, however, more soldiers took their place and advanced on Mac. Some of them seeing their comrades fall, threw themselves at her, or charged her with batons of their own, when they realized they couldn't hit her with their pulse weapons.

Mac blocked every strike against her. Overhand, underhand, or cross body, she countered attacks from every direction. One lucky bastard was able to graze her jaw with his rifle butt, but soon he was on the ground with a broken and bleeding nose to show for his efforts. Another group of five tried to ambush her from behind, but she heard and smelled their approach. As they came upon her, she crouched down and curled her arms outward and back, striking two in their ribcages. She spun around, still in a crouch, and caught another one with a cross body strike to his shins; sending him sprawling to the ground, face first. She hit the last two with the ends of the batons as she came swiftly out of her crouch, thrusting upward with her arms.

Another Vorloren soldier, a woman, tried to catch the transgenic off guard, by leaping through the air in a stunning display of martial arts skill and bicycle kicking her legs and feet at the transgenic. Mac swung around with a baton aimed right at the height of the woman's instep on her left foot. The momentum of it flipped the soldier over in the air and she landed with a heavy thud on her back in the dirt with a broken foot. The Chimera in Mac was thoroughly enjoying herself. These people were using strategy on her, making her have to outthink them. It was a challenge she hadn't had in a long time. Take down her enemies; this was what she was made to do.

* * *

Archer finally was able to sneak away from his tree trunk and find another hiding place closer to Mac. He watched, as she took down soldier after soldier, in rapid succession. She countered every move they made against her. He noticed that she wasn't blindly going after them, but that each reaction was well thought out and premeditated. He didn't think she had killed any of them; seriously hurt and injured them, but she hadn't slain them. Then something went wrong. A pulse concussion grenade went off close to Mac's position. The Captain stared in horror as it happened.

* * *

Mac felt the blast throw her at least seven meters back into a massive tree. Her head cracked against the hard wood and she fell to the ground. Blood seeped out her ears. Archer knew she had ruptured blood vessels in her brain. The genetically engineered woman lay motionless on the forest floor. The Captain wanted to run to her and cradle her in his arms, but a rifle in his back stopped him cold in his tracks.

"Move it! Out in the open, now!" the Vorloren soldier ordered him roughly.

"What is the meaning of this? Why are you attacking us?" Archer turned toward his captor.

"Shut up and move!" was the only response he got, and it came with a painful rifle punch to the gut. Archer doubled over and he couldn't breathe. Another guard roughly pushed him forward.

"We did it! We stopped her!" cried some of the Vorloren soldiers who were still standing.

"She wasn't so tough," another soldier arrogantly stated.

Ten soldiers, not including the two that held Archer, surrounded the downed transgenic. Little did they know, Mac's brain was healing itself at a miraculous rate, and as it did, Mac's beast lost itself to its primal rage. The Chimera had gone into survival mode. She flew up and at the group with surprising speed and agility. She picked up two of them and threw them fifteen meters across the clearing. When they landed, the force broke many of the bones in their bodies. Two others found themselves with broken necks, as Mac grabbed them and twisted their heads too far the wrong way. The other six backed away from her in a panic. They fled from before her, blindly running through the woods.

The Chimera elongated her canine teeth; she wanted their blood. She sprang after the slowest of those that fled. She used a low tree branch to vault up an over her prey and land in front of it, cutting off its escape. It reeked of fear. That smell of fear only intensified the Chimera's bloodlust. In another instant she was at its throat, sinking her teeth into its soft flesh. The soldier cried out as the transgenic ripped through skin and tissue, and she brought her prey to the ground. Then he went silent as the Chimera crushed his windpipe. The blood flowed into her mouth, silvery and translucent. It wasn't what she expected, but it wasn't half bad either. It started out as a very sour taste that developed into a sweet flavor, unlike the salty iron taste of human blood.

"Cease and desist all operations now," a voice of authority ordered. "This exercise is now over. Do not engage the transgenic again."

The Captain watched his McKenna kill. It both sickened and fascinated him. How could she do that? What the hell was going on? Archer recognized the voice giving the all stop order. It was Romdel. Anger burned through the Captain, like a raging forest fire. He was so enraged that red spread across his vision. Why had the Vorloren commander betrayed them like this? It didn't make any sense. Mac had paused in her slaughter, as she too, heard and recognized Romdel's voice.

The Director came out of the darkness of the shadow of a significantly sized boulder. He had a number of soldiers at his side, and Archer watched as four hovercraft, that had an almost motorcycle look to them, dropped down from somewhere up in the forest canopy. "Let Captain Archer go, Lieutenant," he ordered the soldier at Archer's back to do. "We need him to calm the creature down."

Creature? When did Mac become just a creature to Romdel? Did he really expect that Archer could control Mac after all this? The Captain's mind whirled with questions and doubts as Romdel spoke to him. "Please, Captain Archer, bring the genetically enhanced creature out of her primal stupor." Archer didn't care for Romdel's condescending tone of voice at all. In fact he wanted to deck the guy. What an asshole! Mac's state of mind was anything but in a stupor. He doubted he could get through to her. What did Romdel really think was going on here?

The transgenic still crouched low by her kill. The Chimera was torn between wanting to finish the job and feast upon her kill, and wanting to leap at Romdel to make him her meal. Her attention turned to Jonathan as he carefully and cautiously approached her. Mac's beast desired to show him her accomplishment, her great success. He was the dominant male and should share the in the spoils of the kill with her. She met him half way, dragging the body of the fallen soldier with her. Then she dropped it at his feet, right in front of him. The Chimera then crouched low to the corpse again and motioned for him to do the same. She also stayed low, in almost a bow, being submissive to him.

Archer flinched as to what Mac, no the Chimera, for he knew that's who was in control now, was implying with her actions. It was a lot like when a cat brought its owner the mouse it had killed, showing off its trophy. Mac had explained to him a little bit concerning her wolf pack analogy about how her primitive mind understood various situations. He was a dominant male in her eyes, her equal, at least on some levels. The Chimera was showing him respect and giving him the first take in her kill. The Captain thought he was going to be sick, but he knelt down beside Mac and the body.

"Chimera?" he tentatively asked.

The Chimera felt a tingle of pleasure slide down her spine at Jonathan's recognition of her and not Mac. "Very good, Jonathan," she purred. "You're learning. Come join me in my kill. I offer it to you as a gift."

Archer didn't know what to do. If he refused, what would her reaction be? He couldn't accept this either. He started to feel light headed. "I need to ask you to stop this," he finally found his voice and said quietly to her. "You know this isn't right, what you did. You didn't need to rip the man's throat out."

The Chimera felt as if she had been slapped. It wasn't so much what her Jonathan said, as the look in his eyes. He was repulsed by what she had done. She had to convince him otherwise. "Don't belittle something, until you've tried it. The Vorloren meat doesn't taste that bad. They are rather sweet to the taste." She slid up to the Captain, grabbing his face in her hands. "Go ahead and taste," she told him as she pressed her blood stained lips to his own.

Archer tried to pull away, to resist her actions, but she held him too tight. She opened her mouth and kissed him forcefully, making him taste the blood on her lips and in her mouth. His body responded to her before he could think. He deepened the kiss and explored what she was offering him. In some primal spot inside him, he wanted to. A savage part of himself hungrily licked and tasted the blood of her kill as he kissed her back.

The blood was sour and then sweet, almost candy-like to his tongue. For a brief moment he reveled in the heat of their kiss and the flavor of the blood. Then his rational mind, appalled by what he was doing, violently broke contact with Mac throwing them both to the ground. "No, Chimera, no!" he cried. "This is wrong! It is very, very wrong. I won't do it!" He started to gag and he tasted vomit in his mouth. He threw up on the ground and became shaky with shock.

The Chimera stared at him in astonishment. He really didn't like the thrill of the kill. It disgusted and revolted him. Suddenly the Chimera was ashamed of her actions. As the shame, and then the guilt set in, her teeth shrank back to normal. Jonathan finally looked at her again. She was expecting to see anger and hatred from him, but instead she saw a raw disappointment and a bitter sadness. What had she done? What it really so wrong? Jonathan seemed to think so. His disappointment cut her to the bone for she had let him down. The Chimera then did something she had never done before, she wept. Big, wet tears streamed from her eyes and her body shook with grief. The beast gave way to Mac's human side. Mac felt sick and faint. She continued to cry wholeheartedly.

Archer recovered from his physical disgust and watched the Chimera transform back into the woman he was falling in love with. The now very human transgenic was weeping uncontrollably. He went to her and gathered her in his arms. She had become frail and weak for the awful guilt and shame she felt led her into a soulful remorse. "It's okay, Mac. I'm here. I'm here," he cooed into her ear. He wanted to take all her suffering away. It hurt him to see her in such emotional pain, but he knew it was good for her. She needed to feel it. She needed to remember it. She needed to deal with it.

"Oh God, Jonathan, it happened again, oh God," she sobbed into his shoulder. "You must terminate me. I am too dangerous to be allowed to live."

"Stop that kind of talk," he quietly ordered her. "You relapsed. It happens. It was bad, but you'll get through it, we'll get through it," he corrected himself. "You are not alone in this Mac. You must remember that."

Mac's crying increased at his words. She was shaking, her body racked with her weeping. "H—h—how can y-you say that, after all you've seen me do," she said through her tears. "W—w—why would y-you still want to h—help me?"

"Oh, Mac," Archer felt the tears come to his own eyes, "how can I _not_ want to?" He embraced her tightly and hugged her to him. He continued to let her cry, all the while holding her, stroking her, and comforting her. Trip and T'Pol had finally arrived on the scene, along with Chief Suran. The area was mass confusion with Mac and the Captain at the center of it. T'Pol saw the body of the Vorloren soldier with his throat ripped out and Mac in the Captain's arms.

"What the hell's goin' on here?" Trip demanded to know.

"I want answers as well, Commander," Aster informed him. "Director Romdel has a lot of explaining to do. This was not cleared through me. His actions are not condoned or supported by me or any of my men."

"Well then," Trip said full of anger, "let's find out together what our gracious host, Romdel, has been doin'."

"Certainly," Aster replied and led Trip and T'Pol down to where Romdel was standing, trying to manage the chaos. More hovercraft had arrived, with more soldiers and some with medics to treat the wounded and collect the dead. Romdel allowed the human as much time as he needed to control his monstrous super soldier.

The Director wanted to make certain she would be coherent again. It surprised him that she had gone from viciously feral to weak as a Tripelian mouse in mere minutes. It further surprised him that she experienced such sorrow and remorse for her natural tendencies. She was created to kill, to be the perfect soldier, so why did she weep like a small child because of her expected actions? A perfect soldier needed no conscience, no sense of right or wrong. They should only know to follow their orders without question and without hesitation. He didn't like the weakness he saw in this one.

Trip and T'Pol decided to speak to their Captain first and let Chief Suran deal with Romdel for the moment. "You okay, Jon?' Trip asked gently.

"Aside from a semi-numb arm, I'm fine," Archer answered as he held Mac. Her sobs had lessened, but she clung to him, afraid to let go, not trusting herself.

"And McKenna?" T'Pol put in quietly.

"She's far from fine," the Captain told her honestly. "She's a wreck."

"What happened?" Trip wanted to know.

The Captain stroked Mac's back softly, still trying to calm her. It was working, but very slowly. "A unit of Vorloren soldiers attacked us. Mac was doing a fantastic job of stopping them, without killing any of them, until one of them hit her with a concussion grenade."

"You've got to be kiddin' me!?" Trip couldn't believe the Vorlorens would do that. "Why?"

"She was kicking their collective asses that's why, and without firing a shot back at them," Archer told him. "They got desperate to stop her, or defeat her, I don't know. It blew Mac into a tree. I thought she had been injured beyond her ability to heal, but I was wrong. Something about almost dying switched her beast on full force and she killed five of the remaining Vorloren soldiers. The last one she went completely animalistic on and ripped his throat out."

"This poor feller here, huh?" Trip asked as he looked down at the corpse next to where Archer was sitting on the ground. He tried to make light of it to keep from being sick to his stomach at viewing Mac's handiwork.

"That'd be the one," Archer replied.

"Were you able to stop her from continuing on with her killing spree?" T'Pol now asked.

"Basically," the Captain paused in his answer.

"What do you mean by that, Captain?" T'Pol pressed him.

Archer cleared his throat. He massaged Mac's neck gently with his hand as he held her. "Mac, or I should say her alter ego, the Chimera, wanted me to join in on the spoils of the kill with her." There he had said it. The horror of his momentary desire to do just that, nauseated him again.

Trip just stared at Archer. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Something about Jon's demeanor told him something was really wrong. The chief engineer was now very worried about his friend. Had Archer joined Mac in her kill? Trip started as he noticed for the first time silvery colored blood ringing the Captain's mouth. _Na, he wouldn't, would he? _came Trip's troubled thoughts. It was so unlike his friend. Never in a thousand light years would Trip imagine Jon acting like that. He couldn't bring himself to ask if Archer had. It was too much.

T'Pol blinked rapidly and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She was pretty agitated for a Vulcan. She was remembering the dreadfulness of the crew's time in the Delphic Expanse, and the Vulcans aboard the ship, the _Seleya_. They had become raving lunatics, lusting after the blood of others in a homicidal rage, taken back to their savage and primitive roots, because of the mineral, trellium.

They were collecting it to line their ship with the material, in order to protect the _Seleya _and its crew from the devastating spatial anomalies within the Expanse. They didn't realize the negative effects the trellium had on Vulcans until it was too late. Even T'Pol had started to be affected by the trellium ore while on the _Seleya. _Her emotional control had begun to slip. Later she would become addicted to the trellium in small amounts. It had allowed her to feel her suppressed emotions more and she had enjoyed them. That was why she was having to relearn how to be Vulcan again and relearn how to control the all the emotional sensations she was now susceptible to.

T'Pol did not want to see the Captain slip into homicidal, primal instincts as she had seen happen to the crew of the _Seleya_. The Vulcan commander's earlier worries about Mac's effect on Archer and the transgenic's stripping him of his rationality resurfaced as well. She didn't want her friend and commanding officer to suffer the loss of dignity it would bring and the emotional pain that would accompany it.

She finally managed to respond. "Did you?" she whispered.

"Of course not!" the Captain cried out defensively, causing Mac to flinch in his arms. "I was able to get the Chimera to back down, and Mac came back to her senses. Then she broke down when she realized what she had done," he continued on in a softer tone.

"What do you want us to do, Captain?" Trip was more formal now, ready to do as his captain ordered to deal with the situation. He was relieved beyond words that Jon hadn't lost himself to primal instincts.

"Take Mac for me. She trusts both you and T'Pol. Help her while I rip Romdel a new one," the Captain requested.

"You are going to rip Romdel a new what?" T'Pol asked not understanding the human colloquialism. Trip couldn't help but smile and chuckle, just a little. The Vulcan woman's question was a great change of subject. "In other words, the Cap'n is gonna give ol' Romdel a good ass chewin' for pullin' whatever this stunt was," Trip finally explained.

"An ass chewing?" T'Pol was still puzzled, then it hit her. "You mean a reprimand?"

Trip chuckled again at T'Pol's confusion. "Sorta. It will be the worst dressing down that you probably will ever see our captain give someone. Let's just leave it at that."

"Damn straight," Archer commented, laughing just a bit himself at the Vulcan's lack of understanding. He now addressed the woman in his arms, "Mac, sweetheart, I need to go talk to Romdel. I'm going to let Trip and T'Pol take care of you, okay?"

Mac grabbed him all the tighter and he felt her shake her head in the negative. Trip squatted down by her. "Come on honey, its Trip, your singin' buddy," Trip said in a soft, soothing voice. "I'll help you out, you know I will. And T'Pol is your meditatin' buddy. She'll help you out too." T'Pol's eyebrows went sky high when Trip used the word "buddy" to describe her. Vulcans were not anyone's "buddy."

The Captain gently nudged Mac toward Trip's now open arms. Mac hesitated, but then caught Trip's bayou smell and remembered the enjoyable feelings she had earlier singing with him in the music room. She slid herself from Archer's arms into Trip's, without any more opposition. Her pack was there for her. Confident that Mac was in good hands, the Captain stood, stretched his sore muscles, and headed over to rip Romdel a new one.

Trip sat and allowed Mac to snuggle into his neck and shoulders. He rested his chin on her head. His hands rubbed her back in soft, slow circles. Mac's breathing became steadier, and her crying had stopped. Trip's attraction to her was there, but for some reason its effects on him had lessened. He only thought of comforting her now. T'Pol was having a difficult time watching Trip hold the beautiful woman in such a personal way. She tried to push the foolish emotion of jealousy away. It was much stronger this time as she observed Trip with Mac. Trip was just doing as the Captain had asked, and what was in his nature to do; be a nice guy. It still bothered her anyway.

Trip sensed T'Pol's jealousy through their bond as he held Mac and it caused him to smile. "You don't have anything to worry about, T'Pol," he assured her. "You're the only one I want as my mate, but I do want to help Mac."

"I know," was all T'Pol said. Vulcans were not a touchy, feely kind of race, but T'Pol knew her touch could also be comforting to Mac, so she gently reached out and laid a hand on Mac's shoulder. "When you feel up to it McKenna, we can continue with some Vulcan meditation techniques. They may help to calm your turmoil further."

Mac unburied her face from Trip's chest and looked over at T'Pol. "You don't hate me, or think me a lost cause?"

Unknown to most people, except to Trip and the Captain, T'Pol had a very sympathetic and compassionate side to her. Yes, Mac had killed and proved to be extremely dangerous, but she was trying so hard to overcome it. T'Pol could not abandon her now, not when she was fighting a similar battle for control of herself. "No one is a lost cause unless they choose to be such. And Vulcans do not hate. I wish you no ill will, McKenna," T'Pol told Mac honestly.

Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing from both T'Pol and Trip. Most of the people at that WGC steered clear of her, after any of her episodes, and they offered her little compassion. They tried to help her only because they still wanted to use her to further their agendas, not because they cared about her. And Khan had really only encouraged her homicidal, animalistic instincts, making her believe they were good things and that they should be fostered, not repressed.

"I would be very grateful for your meditation instruction, T'Pol. Thank you." With that said, Mac pushed herself out of Trip's arms and hugged T'Pol. The Vulcan was taken aback, uncomfortable with the emotional display, but she accepted the hug after a moment and even gave a small one back to the transgenic.

* * *

The Captain stormed up to were Romdel was stationed, near the huge boulder. As Archer approached, Chief Suran was arguing heatedly with the Director. That was encouraging. The security chief was pretty upset about the situation too. He must not have been in on it then. That was good news.

When the Captain tried to close in on Romdel, two Vorloren soldiers blocked his path. "I need to speak with the Director, gentlemen," Archer tried to be diplomatic.

Romdel saw the Captain and knew he would have to face the human sooner or later; he might as well get it over with now. "Let the Captain up here, Major," Romdel barked at one of the soldiers. With a curt gesture, the two guards allowed Archer to pass them.

In three steps the Captain was in front of the Vorloren leader and he hit him with a right cross punch as hard as he could straight into Romdel's face. Instantly the two soldiers grabbed Archer and held him at bay. The force of the punch spun Romdel backward into the side of the boulder. When he turned back to face the angry human, his lip was bleeding with silvery ooze.

"Let Archer go," Aster ordered the guards, "Romdel deserved that."

"Thank you," the Captain tipped his head to Chief Suran. He then turned on Romdel full of fiery anger. "You stupid son of a bitch! What in the hell were you trying to pull out there? You could have gotten all of your people killed, not to mention some of my crew!"

Romdel wiped at his blooded lip. "You needn't be so upset, Captain. It was only a test." He said it as if it were obvious and no big deal.

"A test!?" Archer exploded. "You never cleared it through Phlox or myself, Director."

"He didn't clear it through me or my men either, Captain," Aster interjected.

Romdel was totally unaffected by their accusations. "I don't need your permission to carry out orders from the Council of Elders, or the High Monarch, Aster."

"I am Chief of Security on these grounds, Milo." Aster used Romdel's first name just to be disrespectful. "I have complete and total authority here. These people are under my watch and protection. You had no right to take the actions that you did here."

The Captain jumped back in. "Are you telling me that your leaders ordered you to attack Mac, just to see how she would react?" His anger flamed higher.

Romdel wanted to say to Archer, "You are smarter than you look," but he was wiser than that, and said instead, "We needed to see her in action without it being staged. Any simulation would not truly be realistic. If the transgenic knew the battle wasn't real, she might not react how she truly would in an actual battle situation. We wanted to observe how she would behave without any constraints or preconceptions."

Archer couldn't believe this alien. He was a conniving and unscrupulous bastard. The Captain's gut feelings had been right about him after all. Director Romdel and his superiors couldn't be trusted. "Did you ever stop to consider the consequences of that decision? Did you realize that Mac's systems are unbalanced and that we were out here to try and resolve that condition? You could have made her worse. Was it all right with you that your men were risking their lives battling with her? Or that Mac herself could have been killed and then your precious dreams of building your own super soldier army would be dashed?"

"Those things did not concern us, Captain," Romdel didn't bother to lie now. "The risks were acceptable to us. This setting seemed like the perfect opportunity to test her abilities. And besides her corpse would still contain viable DNA to work with."

The Captain launched himself at Romdel and held the Director pinned by the throat to the side of the massive boulder, using his arm and elbow. Archer increased the pressure against the alien's windpipe, choking him. Chief Suran stopped Romdel's guards from assisting him. He wanted to let Archer intimidate Romdel. It was time someone stood up to the Director. "I think you just lost our cooperation, Director," the Captain spat the words at him. "My crew and I will be leaving Quantima, with Mac." His tone left no room for argument.

"You are in no position to refuse us, Captain," Romdel wheezed out. "I have many more men than you do. We won't just let you leave."

"Oh, I think you will," Archer told him and applied even more pressure to the Director's windpipe. Romdel struggled for breath, but wasn't very successful at getting any. "If you value your own life." Romdel looked into the Captain's eyes and what he saw scared him. There was feralness and a wildness he hadn't seen in the human's eyes before. Archer meant to kill him that much was clear. Chief Suran seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Captain Archer, I know you feel betrayed and are extremely upset right now," Aster began. "I do not blame you, but let us work this out. I am sure that you can talk to the Council and find out what is really going on here. I do not want to have to put you or any of your people in a cell, but I will if I am forced too. Right now we can all go back to the palace and I will have Chef Orlin prepare a fine meal and you and your people can rest and recover from this unfortunate incident. If you choose to resist and try to leave, I will be forced to stop you. I do have my orders to follow. I hope you can understand that."

The security chief's words hit home. Archer realized the futility of trying to leave. He was out-manned, outgunned, and had no way to signal the _Enterprise _for help. The fury in him wouldn't let go, however. "Then I will deal through you, Chief Suran. I will not deal with this piece of garbage another minute," and with that said, he punched Romdel twice more, once in the gut, and then again as hard as he could in the face. Romdel collapsed on the ground, out cold. "He should consider himself lucky that I didn't kill him."

Archer walked away, back towards Mac and the others. He was seething. He had been angry many times in his life, but this was different. It was a primal rage he had never experienced before. He could barely contain it. He wanted to rip something apart. He wondered if this was how Mac felt when the Chimera took over. The Captain took long, deep breaths and tried to calm himself. T'Pol, Trip, and Mac looked up at him as he approached. They all stood as he reached them.

"Captain, are you all right?" T'Pol noticed his distress. It worried her anew. It wasn't like him. She could almost feel the rage radiating off of him. Humans were extremely emotional, but this _was _different. It frightened her to see his control slipping. Her fears were coming to pass. It was again reminding her too much of Vulcan's spiral down into the madness of its past.

"I will be," Archer tried to sound normal, but his voice had a growl to it.

"What did Romdel have to say for himself?" Trip asked, his unease at Archer's state of mind growing by the minute.

The Captain wanted to explain, but he was afraid it would make him even angrier to talk about it again. "I'll have Chief Suran tell you about it. I am too infuriated about the whole thing to discuss it reasonably."

Trip looked at Archer with disbelief. "What's wrong, Jon?" He was extremely distressed for his friend now. He had never seen Archer this pissed before in all the years he had known him.

"I, uh, I'm having a hard time controlling, my, umm, temper," Archer managed to say, trying to make it sound less serious than it felt.

Mac came up to him. "This is my fault too. I am having a bad influence on you."

Her sorrow threw a bucket of cold water on the flames of his rage. "It's okay. I'll deal with it. Don't trouble yourself over it. You're not doing it on purpose." He pulled her into an embrace and just held her. "It was Romdel's betrayal of my trust that is the cause, not you. I'll be all right in a minute or two." He leaned into her as he held her.

"I'm beginnin' to think this whole situation is FUBAR, sir," Trip said, trying to add a little levity to ease all the tension.

_Yes, the situation was fouled up beyond all recognition_, the Captain thought wryly, though he edited it to not be too crude. "Me too," was Archer's vocal reply in total agreement with Trip.

TBC

**Please let me know what you think. Leave a short review and tell me if its good, bad, or something else. Thanks!!!!**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the idea that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: This chapter has some spoilers for "Similitude". I really liked that episode, but felt Archer's inner turmoil over the event was glossed over. Mac in trying to learn more about Archer will delve into what went through his mind at that time. Also, I had to have Future Guy put in another appearance. Later in the story I will do more with who and what I think he is. Please read and review. Feedback is essential to a writer. Enjoy the read.**

**Thanks to LadyRainbow for all her help. She is a great beta.**

**Chapter 14**

Mac sat on the floor with T'Pol in a relaxed meditating posture: eyes closed, legs folded beneath her, arms resting on her knees, and breathing full, deep breaths. Both she and T'Pol were wearing pairs of T'Pol's silken pajamas, as T'Pol had many such outfits. Mac was wearing a minty green colored set, while T'Pol had on a medium blue colored set. Mac couldn't bring herself to wear anything the Vorlorens had provided her with, after her latest episode. The pajamas were short-sleeved and left both women's midriffs a little bare. Mac had showered and cleaned off all the evidence of her latest failure to control her beast. Her long, brown hair hung in curly waves down her back. T'Pol's short light brown hair was still wet from her bath. The Vulcan had wanted good old-fashioned water, not the sonic shower. It was growing late in the Quantima night, and the palace was silent.

T'Pol had lit three lavender candles between them on the floor, as well as an incense burner a short distance away. The smell of some Vulcan herb helped spread a feeling of tranquility around the two women. T'Pol was teaching Mac not to repress her primitive emotions, but to examine them closely and develop ways to deal and cope with them. One had to face the unwanted emotions, before they could be suppressed the correct way. It was a skill T'Pol herself was having to relearn how to do, after her trellium addiction had undone all she had ever learned before.

The Vulcan woman was proving to be a patient and gentle teacher. She never grew frustrated with Mac's struggle with the new techniques, and she was kind in how she went about correcting Mac's errors. Right now the two were lost in their own mental retreat. Letting their minds ponder and drift from one thought to the next. The transgenic was trying to figure out why she wasn't strong enough to overcome her demon. She wanted to be able to do it so badly, but she failed every time she tried. Mac craved to know what was wrong with her and how she could fix the problem. She was reaching out to any plane of existence to find an answer.

As Mac's mind was in the act of deep meditation and pondering, she could have sworn she heard someone, speaking to her, from what seemed like very far away. It wasn't a loud voice. It was just a whisper. If she didn't concentrate on it hard enough she would lose it, or it would fade away. Voice may have been the wrong word for the sensation. It was more like a feeling, or an intuition, or even an admonition of some kind. It brought with it feelings of love, warmth, and safety. _Selfish_, Mac thought she discerned the word. What did that mean? How could that help her? _Be more unselfish_, the thought was more intelligible this time, but Mac still didn't know how it was supposed to help her.

She was so lost and so confused about everything. How could she find out who she was? _Lose yourself to find yourself_, came another thought to her mind. How could losing yourself help you find yourself? It seemed like an oxymoron to Mac. This was going nowhere. It was only frustrating her. _Lose yourself in helping others. Forget yourself and your concerns as you focus on the needs of others_. _Live for others, not just for yourself._ The thought finally became a complete one. Then the sensation of tenderness and comfort was gone. The voice or intuition melted away. The final thought kind of reminded Mac of a fortune cookie.

Mac's eyes snapped open. Had she just imagine that or had it really happened? Had someone or something actually reached out to her in her desperate need and really offered her some kind of cryptic helping hand? She didn't know what to believe or what to think. The genetically engineered woman had never experienced anything like that in her entire life. Never before in her meditation practices had she felt such an uplifting and reassuring presence. What had it been? Was it a result of the new Vulcan techniques, or of being in a strange time and place, or of something else entirely? She silently prayed it wouldn't be the last time she felt it.

T'Pol was still deep within her mental retreat and Mac did not want to disturb her. She stealthily got up from the floor and went into her bathroom. The super soldier grabbed a crystalline glass from one of the bathroom cupboards and filled it with cool, clear water. She drank the full glass down with great thirst. She still couldn't get the taste of the Vorloren soldier's blood out of her mouth.

Mac looked at herself in the mirror. She honestly felt that her soul was on the other side staring back at her, waiting for her to embrace it. But she couldn't, not without breaking the glass that made up the mirror and cutting herself to shreds. She felt the weight of her misdeeds, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes again. The transgenic flipped the light back off and returned to the bedroom. She picked up a PADD from one of the many she had stashed around the room.

Most of the information she had been given was very general and nonspecific about the _Enterprise, _its crew, and its mission. Some of the Captain's logs had been made available to her, but not all. Mac was curious to know more about Jonathan himself. She wanted to read his personal logs and look at his service record. Of course that information hadn't been provided for her; it was restricted to authorized personnel. She needed something to occupy her time with until T'Pol was done meditating and Jonathan and Trip returned from the Captain's meeting with some of the Council of Elders, so she decided to hack into the restricted areas of the _Enterprise's_ computer banks. She would need to access one of the Vorloren computer terminals to accomplish this task, however.

Luckily, each bedroom had a personal computer terminal. The controls were all in Vorloren though, and that would be a problem. Mac had an idea; if she could hook up a Universal Translator to the computer controls, it might be able to translate them into English for her. She quickly searched her room for the one Hoshi had given her and found it under one of Jonathan's shirts that he had somehow left in her room. The transgenic allowed herself to be distracted for a moment as she held it to her nose and breathed in his earthen scent. Then she returned to her undertaking. After a few minutes of playing around with the computer and the UT, Mac was in business.

Now she had to fool the computer and anyone monitoring its use, that she was an authorized user. Then she needed to mask the transmission up to the _Enterprise_ as something else, something less suspicious. Not mentioning the fact that she also had the deflector shield to deal with. Mac began delving into the computer's systems and working through them one by one. It was nice that math was also a universal language and that the Vorloren systems obeyed the same principles that Earth based ones did. It didn't take the super soldier long to gain access to what she wanted.

Mac decided to pull up Jonathan's service record first. She wanted to know all the little details about his life that she could. She found it with a small amount of effort and began reading through it. She liked the picture that was included. He looked like the commander of a starship in it. Jonathan Archer was born in 2112 in upstate New York, to Sally and Henry Archer. He moved to San Francisco, California as a young boy and spent the majority of his life living there. That explained his earthen and slightly salty, oceany smell. He was also a very down-to-earth kind of person, pun intended. The Captain had even earned an Eagle Scout award from the Boys Scouts of America. Mac was delighted to see that wonderful organization was still around. Her Jonathan did seem like a big Boy Scout to her.

He joined Starfleet soon after high school, going through flight school and attending Stanford University. Then he participated in something called Starfleet Training. He later served as a test pilot in something called the NX Project. Mac almost laughed when she saw that he received a suspension for stealing one of the early NX ships to break the warp two barrier and prove that humanity was ready for the next step in warp flight. It appeared that the Vulcans had wanted to end the warp trials after another pilot, an A.G. Robinson, had tried the same maneuver and had ended up destroying the ship and almost himself, in the process. Jonathan's stunt had saved Earth's warp program. Mac thought this typical of the man she was coming to know.

She read how Jonathan's father was the designer of the Warp Five engine, which now powered the _Enterprise_, and he also had helped design the initial plans for theNX class starship, like the _Enterprise._ The transgenic was sad to see Henry Archer had died at a young age of something called Clarke's Disease. He had never seen his engine put to use. Jonathan had only been twelve at the time. Mac decided she would have to either look up what Clarke's Disease was, or ask Jonathan about it. She had never heard of it.

Jonathan was next chosen to be the Captain of the _Enterprise NX-01_. His commanding officer had been an Admiral Forrest, but he had been killed in the bombing of Earth's embassy on Vulcan. The transgenic would have to ask Jonathan about that incident too, or spend the time looking it up. Jonathan's superior was now an Admiral Gardner.

Mac was happy to find a psychological profile for the Captain attached to his file. The profile said he was bold and charming, a born explorer guided by a core of human decency and intuition. He was fiercely independent, but had a strong sense of duty. Mac found all this to be accurate from her brief time in knowing him. He was all his profile explained him to be and so much more.

It was most interesting to note that the profile mentioned he had a problem with Vulcans. It said he held a grudge against them and blamed them for holding humanity back from exploring the stars. He also blamed them from keeping his father from seeing his life's work completed. A recent addition to the last part of his profile said that from his experience in coping with a Vulcan first officer, he had learned to lessen his preconceived notions and that his attitude towards the Vulcans was improving. He had even had a hand in uncovering a corrupt and treacherous Vulcan High Command, and had helped to restore to the citizens of Vulcan the true teachings of one of their great and wise leaders. None of what she learned about her Jonathan surprised her. He was a good man. She was coming to realize that she was falling in love with him.

For Mac this was a new experience. What she had experienced with Khan had not been love, in any form of the word. Maybe to him what they shared had been love, but it never was to her. He had made her feel good on the surface, but not deep down in the center of her being, not like Jonathan did. Khan had promised a lot, but he never delivered. He tried to make her become her beast. Jonathan wouldn't let her give up on her dream to be free of her demon, and he didn't judge her for her mistakes. Khan had used Mac for his own twisted purposes, and she knew she had used him too. She also had a few brief and tumultuous relationships with a few of her fellow WGC agents, but nothing of any substance. All of that was superficial, most of it lust and not love. The friends she had made were also only surface deep, no true and lasting bonds.

What she felt for Jonathan was different. Sure there were the romantic and lustful feelings, but her feelings went deeper than that. She cared for him on all levels. Mac worried about his safety and was willing to do anything to keep him safe. That worry also transferred to those he cared about. The transgenic valued his opinion, wanted to know what he thought, about all things. She felt that she could be a better person because of him. She was falling in love with all of him: his looks, his personality, his strength, his kindness, his willingness to forgive and help her, and his ability to sooth her troubled heart. He was able to touch her soul, the one trapped in the mirror. He gave back her ability to hope.

Mac didn't know if this new development in her life was a good thing or a bad thing. Was she really capable of love? Could anybody really love her? Victor McKnight had and look what it had cost him. Mac's eyes blurred with tears at the thought of her "father". Would she have turned out differently if he hadn't been murdered? Was Jonathan just another false hope? Was she beyond the redemption, she so longed for? The transgenic's mind was filled with unanswerable questions, and the last one was the most worrisome. Mac wanted to have a purpose in life. She wanted to protect and help the human race, but how could she do that? The monster inside her made her as great a threat to humanity as any they had faced before. How could she help humans when she wanted to tear them apart at the same time? Her whole existence didn't make sense to her.

Mac next dug into Archer's personal logs. She was pleased to find that they were in both screen written and audio formats, for it would be a pleasure to listen to his soothing voice. The super soldier's search had a main target. Jonathan had mentioned something about ordering the creation of a life form just to harvest some of its tissues, which would kill it, to help save Trip's life. That sounded out of character to Mac. Why would someone, as ethical as Jonathan seemed and as honorable as his recorded showed, do something like that? Mac didn't understand. Trip was a good officer, Mac assumed, and a friend of the Captain's, but he was only one person. Surely, Jonathan wouldn't risk everything he stood for to save one man's life?

After several failed queries, Mac found the log entry she was looking for, dated almost two years ago. Mac noticed that there was a note to see the Chief Medical Officer's log for more information, so Phlox had recorded something about the event as well. Now that piqued Mac's curiosity even more. The transgenic proceeded to play Archer's log entry and see what he had to say about the incident. She put ear bud headphones in her ears, so T'Pol wouldn't hear.

"_Captain's Personal log,"_ her Jonathan's voice began. It sounded weary and very sad. _"I am just back from Sim's funeral. It was a melancholy event. The contributions he made to this crew and its mission were invaluable."_ Archer's voice cracked for a moment and then he continued, _"I sentenced him to death and killed him. He was a living, intelligent, and sentient being. He willing sacrificed himself to save Trip's life. He had wanted to run, wanted to escape his fate of death, but in the end he was a better man than I was. I was ready to force him, make him give up his life, but he was the one who decided to do it of his own free will, when it came down to the heart of it._

"_What have I done? How did I come to this dark place? This whole mission shouldn't even be necessary. If the Xindi hadn't attacked Earth and weren't planning on completely annihilating the human race, I wouldn't have to make decisions like I did with Sim. I never thought myself capable of murder, but it seems I am. If Sim hadn't changed his mind and chosen to give his life for Trip's, I would have become a murderer."_ Archer's voice was quivering.

"_Saving billions and billions of lives on Earth is counting on the success of this mission. We have to find the weapon before it is launched and destroy it. Trip is my Chief Engineer. He is the only one who truly knows how to get _Enterprise_ to function so that is possible. Without his knowledge, experience, and expertise, this mission will fail. At least that is what I keep trying to tell myself. Sim was only one person. His death means that a far greater number of people will live. T'Pol summed it up well when she said, 'The needs of the many, out weigh the needs of the few, or the one.'_

"_But what if you are the man that kills that one? How are you supposed to live with that choice? How can you ask another to give their life for yours? It sounds so incredibly selfish. Even if this mission is successful, will the ends really justify the means? I hope to God that is so. _

"_I love my home and the people there so much it hurts. I would be willing to give my life for any one of theirs. Maybe that was what Sim came to realize. He had all of Trip's memories and the ones he made with the crew of the _Enterprise._ Maybe he loved the people of Earth so much that he knew his death would have a greater meaning. I had told him I felt I was born to be a starship captain and explorer. It was my purpose in life. Sim thought that saving Trip's life was his purpose. That was what he was born to do, and in a way he would be saving Earth and humanity too."_ Archer's voice broke and there was a pause before he finished.

"_I am learning to make difficult and questionable choices. I don't want to lose my moral compass, but sometimes you have to make the hard decisions because no one else can make them for you. The orders I gave concerning Sim have blurred the lines of my ethical code, but I would make the same choice again if I had to. Too many people are counting on my and my crew's ability to protect Earth. I will do whatever is necessary to insure that trust is not in vain, even if it means starting down the slippery slope into unethical and immoral choices. Nothing is more important than saving the lives of those on Earth. Luckily, I have good men and women around me to advise me on the price I must pay to accomplish this task. The cost is high, but it is going to have to be acceptable, or all I care about will be lost, and that is unacceptable."_ That was where the log ended.

Mac couldn't breathe. The tears were flowing down her cheeks. She couldn't believe the situation Jonathan had found himself in. How could he make command decisions like that, unless it was what he was meant to do? He made the decision, not out of greed or the desire for power, but to save lives. The fact that he felt guilty about it and the fact that he realized he was starting to cross a line, showed that he was still a good man. Faced with almost impossible choices, he did what he thought was right. He made the choice for good or bad, but at least he chose. His sense of duty was at war with his human decency, but saving billions upon billions of human lives was the more important choice. He had chosen to sacrifice one life for that of many more, and he had been willing to give his own life as well. Mac found herself loving her Jonathan even more for his difficult choices. How many more had he had to make?

"I tried to talk the Captain out of that decision," T'Pol's voice came from right behind Mac's chair. The transgenic started. She had been so absorbed in Archer's log that she had completely forgotten about T'Pol. "But I couldn't imagine the _Enterprise _without Trip." Her voice was soft and thick with emotion.

Mac turned to face the Vulcan woman. T'Pol had said nothing about Mac's illegal activities, but just commented on what she saw on the screen. The words had been scrolling along with the playback. "You care for Trip, don't you?" Mac found herself asking. Even though she had been emotionally distraught while in Trip's arms, she had still been aware of the words he and T'Pol had spoken to each other.

T'Pol looked at Mac, moisture appearing in her light brown eyes. "Yes." It was one simple word, but it spoke volumes. "Sim actually helped me realize that Trip and I had feelings for one another. As a Vulcan, it is all very illogical, these feelings of tenderness and compassion, but I have them none the less."

"What are you going to do about how you feel?" Mac knew it was none of her business, but if an emotionally restrained Vulcan could learn how to love someone, maybe she could learn how to love as well.

T'Pol took a long time to answer Mac's question. "I do not know," she finally said. "All I know is that I do not want to lose him."

Mac was astounded. She didn't know what to do either, but she definitely, didn't want to lose her Jonathan, not at all. "Maybe just loving him is all you can do," the transgenic replied.

"Indeed, McKenna, indeed," was T'Pol's only further comment.

* * *

"You stupid, incompetent, deceitful, little squid!" Future Guy roared at Romdel from the holographic chamber. "How could you take such idiotic action? You may have ruined everything!"

Romdel was completely taken aback. How could his benefactor from the future know what he had or hadn't done? As if reading Romdel's mind, Future Guy told him. "My agents saw the whole spectacle you caused. You don't think you or your miserable excuse for a species are my only resources, do you?"

Romdel's mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no sound came out of it. "I will now have to take matters into my own hands. If you interfere in any way with my plans for McKenna and Archer again, I will make sure you and several of your ancestors never existed. Do I make myself clear, Director?" Future Guy slurred Romdel's title as he said it.

"Yes, sir," Romdel finally got out. "I am sorry. I didn't think that the attack would cause you such distress. I was only trying to hurry along our study of the transgenic's abilities. We are running short on time," Romdel tried to explain.

"You're impatience may have a high cost, Romdel," Future Guy said angrily. "I'm going to send some of my agents to fix your screw up. I do not like what I'm going to have to have them do, but it is necessary. You and your people will stay out of their way, or else I will turn them lose on you, and I will cut off any further aid to you and your people."

Romdel didn't want to lose his benefactor's help just yet. He would have to concede for now. Plus, the threats the being was throwing out at him, scared him to death. He would have to be more careful next time. "As you wish, sir," Romdel made himself sound contrite. "I will not interfere with whatever your agents intent to do. May I ask what that is, exactly?"

"You'll soon see." Future Guy failed to answer the question. "I have already set events in motion. You may lose a few of your people, but it should be of no concern. You forced their sacrifice by your reckless actions. You will let the events take their course, unless otherwise instructed."

Romdel didn't like the sound of this at all. He had a bad feeling about it. "Will I be able to finish the creation of my super soldiers? We must be able to strike the Lasiterians soon, or it will be too late."

"If the conditions correct themselves and become how I need them to be, you will get your super soldier army, Romdel. But only if the conditions correct themselves." With that said, Future Guy was gone.

"I am beginning to think this deal is more and more one sided, Hister," Romdel said to his half-brother, who stood in the shadows, away from the holographic pad in the chamber.

Torin Hister stepped forward to meet his half-brother face to face. He was the image of Romdel, but years younger. His hair was salt and peppered gray, not right white like Romdel's, and he had a full dark beard, not just a silly moustache. They shared a common father, but different mothers. "I agree," Hister replied. "We will let this mystery man's agents complete their assignment, then we will put our plan into full motion. We only need one or two more samples from our transgenic friend and then she will belong to us. Our army is almost complete. Just a few more missing components and they will be operational."

"Let us hope that the humans don't become any the wiser to what is going on here," Romdel commented. "Have the Lasiterians even tried to contact them?"

"Not that any of my spies or men have detected," Hister said, his voice a low rumble. "Although, I do think that is strange. Maybe losing that last interplanetary space battle made them worse off than we thought."

Romdel doubted it. The Lasiterians always found a way to get help. "We must remain watchful. We can't let Archer or any of his crew have any contact with them. It would undermine everything we are trying to accomplish."

"Don't worry," Hister assured him. "The High Monarch is fully under my influence and control. He will do whatever I want him to. I will see to it that we double our efforts in monitoring any Lasiterian activity."

"Good," Romdel said and finally smiled. "We had better return to the labs and finish our work."

TBC

**Leave me any thoughts or impression you had about this chapter, please. Am I doing okay?**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the idea that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: The end of this chapter is a little violent so the T rating is strongly in place. It is not random violence, but it is key to the progress of the story. You really have to let me know what you think of this chapter. A lot of the plot from here on out depends on this chapter. I divided this chapter up in some parts when I changed POV so that the reader could follow what was going on better.**

**Thanks to LadyRainbow for advising me to rewrite the whole chapter from a different angle to make it stronger and more powerful. Thanks also to her for advising me on keeping T'Pol and Malcolm in character. Sometimes that is hard to do.**

**Please read and review!! Hold on to your seats, this chapter is going to be bumpy!**

**Chapter 15**

"With all do respect, Captain, I _am_ going with you to speak to the Vorloren Council," Malcolm Reed insisted. "You're protection at this point is paramount. I want to be there to _personally _oversee your security. I'm not going to let the Vorlorens pull another stunt like they did out in the woods." Reed was extremely upset by the Vorloren attack on his captain and the transgenic. He hadn't been present and that fact was eating at him.

"All right, all right, Malcolm," Archer gave in, knowing it was useless to argue with Reed when his mind was made up. "You're welcome to come along. Trip's adamant about coming as well. He wants to make sure that I keep my cool. He doesn't want me going after any of the Council members," he said the last part as a joke, but Reed had heard about how the Captain had punched Romdel out. Not that the slimeball Vorloren didn't deserve it, in the tactical officer's opinion, but it surprised him that Captain Archer had done it.

Trip joined in the conversation. "You're still agitated over your confrontation with Romdel, and Phlox is really worried about ya," he said addressing Archer. "Your scans showed your hormone levels are outta control. He even advised ya to stay away from Mac for a little while. Your body can't take much more of the simulation she's causin'.

"I know and I'm not sure how I feel about that," the Captain said and frowned at his shipmates as they made their way to the hovercraft to that would take them to the Council Chamber Building, in good old downtown Quantima.

Reed gave his captain a sideways glance. He could tell that Archer was very conflicted. "What do you mean, sir?" he asked casually.

"He's having a hard time dealing with Mac," Trip answered for the Captain.

As they got into the car-like hovercraft, they were followed closely by a group of MACOs and Reed's security team. Malcolm was not leaving anything to chance; he had made the Vorlorens send a transport big enough to accommodate all the men he demanded. Chief Suran and his security team were also coming along, but in another hovercraft. The Vorloren security chief was not taking any chances either, and Reed appreciated the alien's compliance to his requirements. The _Enterprise_ security team and the MACOs were allowed all their weapons for this little excursion.

"Do you feel that she's a threat to you, Captain?" Reed asked, concerned that the transgenic was now a danger to Archer.

Archer smiled at his tactical officer's worry. "Not in the way you're thinking, Malcolm," he said trying to explain his feelings to Reed. "I'm not afraid of her, but I'm afraid of what she could make me do. The seesaw of emotions and the physical turmoil she's causing in me is becoming a little overwhelming. I promised her that I would stick by her and not abandon her, but I don't know how to cope with the effect she has on me."

"Yeah, Phlox says that you're not sleepin' or eatin' well. You're havin' trouble thinkin' clearly and you've got a constant fever," Trip interjected. "I'm all for helpin' Mac, but you need to take a break from her before _you_ break."

"I know I should, but I'm drawn to her. Part of me wants to run as far away from her as I can and the other part of me wants to be with her so desperately it physically hurts," Archer confessed to his best friend and Reed. "She wants so badly to control herself and something about me helps her do that, to a point. But she's starting to make me lose control of myself, and I don't know how to deal with that. Just when Mac seems at ease and in control, she changes and is completely the opposite. Phlox has got to find a way to help her for all our sakes."

Malcolm's concern was not lessened by anything the Captain had told him; in fact, he was even more worried. The genetically engineered woman was not a good influence on the Captain. Reed thought her stunningly attractive, but a wolf in sheep's clothing. The fact the Archer seemed under her spell was something Malcolm didn't like one little bit. And the soddy Vorlorens hadn't helped the situation; they'd made it worse. Reed was also ticked at the MACOs for their lack of action, and he complained about it to Archer. "Why was the MACOs' response to the assault against you and McKenna so slow? They're trained better than that."

Archer turned to Reed and said with another amused smile, "Have you forgotten about Mac's abilities, Malcolm? She had rushed us so far ahead of the MACOs that it was almost impossible for them to catch up and help us in time. I think the Vorlorens were counting on that little fact. Quite beating yourself up for not being there. You would've been in the same position the MACOs were in, Lieutenant."

"Still, I might've been able to anticipate these aliens' treachery," Reed replied.

"Careful, Mal," Trip cautioned. "Ya might wanna watch whatcha say."

"I don't care if the bloody Vorlorens know what I think of them," Malcolm said bitterly.

Archer stepped in with authority. "I agree with you, Malcolm, but we don't want to make the situation worse right now. We'll confront the Council and see where we stand. We're still at their mercy right now and need to use a little diplomacy. Don't worry, Trip," the Captain said when he saw the commander's sharp look directed at him, "I'm planning on following my own advice."

It didn't take long for the hovercraft to get them to their destination. The Council Chamber Building wasn't a tall building, but it was massive in its width. It looked as if someone had dropped the center into place and then let it spread out as far as it would go. In the bright lights, the building glittered like gold. Malcolm resisted the urge to whistle his appreciation of its beauty, but Trip didn't. "Wow, that's somethin'," he said in awe.

"I have to admit these aliens have style," Malcolm commented. To the armory officer it seemed like the Vorlorens had employed what he would consider Greek and Roman type architecture. Enormous, ionic columns and capitals appeared to hold the entire structure up and there were a lot of them. Ionic style was the kind where the tops of the columns looked like they had little scrolls sitting upside down on them. Gigantic archways were spaced evenly after every fourth column. A large and multi-tiered stairway led up to massive golden doors.

Once the hovercraft arrived, they were all swiftly whisked up the stairs, into the colossal entrance hallway, and into the expansive main chamber. More gold and crystal meet their eyes. Down in the center of the room was a large stage or dais. All around the room were raised seats, like in a stadium. The décor inside was more Greek and Roman style, mixing what Reed thought of as Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian patterns. Flowery waves mixed with crisp lines and thick swirls. The ceiling reminded Reed of the Sistine Chapel in Italy back on Earth. The paintings were expressive and striking, depicting scenes of Vorlorens mingling with what Malcolm decided were heavenly beings. He snorted at that thought.

Archer counted only ten Council members sitting on dark wooden, high-backed chairs located on the center dais. There were supposedly fifty Council members that made up the Vorloren Council of Elders, and he wondered where the other members were. It didn't do anything to reassure him. A middle-aged man with blondish hair stood and approached the newcomers.

"I'm Kamen, head of the Council of Elders," the man introduced himself. "Please be seated with us," he told them gesturing to the empty chairs set on the dais. The chairs were placed in a circle formation, so everyone could see and hear each other. "I'm sorry we are so few in number to talk with you, Captain Archer, but I will explain why that is to you shortly. You're security personal must wait outside. They will be a distraction."

Reed bristled at the statement. "I don't think I'm comfortable with that," he said plainly.

"We assure you, you are quite safe within this chamber," Kamen replied.

"Quite frankly, your assurances mean little to me," Malcolm said bluntly.

"What, my Tactical Officer is trying to say, is that given what has happened, our trust in you is a little shaken," Archer said, stepping in before it turned ugly. "I'd like them to stay," he added.

A short, heavyset female Vorloren with curly black hair spoke up, letting the security matter drop as she went on to another topic. "I want to deeply and sincerely apologize for the earlier actions of our military," she began. "I'm Urasia and I'm the Council's Vice Chair. We didn't intend any real harm in what we ordered them to do. The exercise was only supposed to be a test of the transgenic's abilities in the field, not an all out attack to try and kill her."

Kamen jumped back in to the conversation, anxious to smooth things over with the humans. "Some of our soldiers got reckless, and we as a council strongly condemn the extreme actions they decided to take. The use of concussion grenades was never authorized for use in the drill. We do not know why it went so far."

Archer felt his jaw clench at how ineffective the Council was. They had no real control over what Romdel did or didn't do. "It still doesn't explain why you couldn't run it past me or any of my people first. You had to know what a volatile situation you were going to create. Mac isn't predictable. Her mind and body are unstable."

"Again, we apologize, Captain," Urasia spoke again. "It was bad judgment on our part. And we realize now that it was a horrible mistake, but we are getting desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures. We really had a good, solid reason for ordering the exercise."

Reed snorted again; he couldn't wait to hear their reason. "What would cause you to attack a potentially deadly and destructive force like McKenna? Why would you endanger your people and ours?"

"Do you remember the huge space battle you saw taking place when your ship first arrived in our system?" Kamen answered Malcolm's question with one of his own.

"Yeah, and it seemed very one sided ta me," Trip interjected.

Kamen gave him a brief smile. "Yes it was. Our side gained the victory. We decimated the Lasiterians' fleet. But our landslide success pushed the Lasiterians over the edge. They were already crazy with desperation, but this made them worse. They struck back at us by taking a number of high profile hostages."

Realization dawned on the Captain as Kamen said what Archer had already figured out. "Many of the Council of Elders and their families have been captured. We believe that even some of the High Monarch's family has been taken hostage as well."

"Part of the reason for the exercise with the transgenic was to see if she would be capable of helping our forces go in and rescue the hostages," Urasia took up the explanation at that point. "With a platoon or two of Vorloren soldiers to back her up, the mission would not have a chance of failure. Or even if she went in by herself, it would be quicker, and she could use the stealth of being alone to her advantage. After seeing her in action we have to admit she seems more than capable. We did gain very insightful information from the exercise."

Archer was shocked to his core. He had never really considered that the Vorlorens would actually be interested in using Mac, herself, to help them fight their war. His blood began to boil. "You can forget that idea, Kamen. There is no way in hell I'm going to let you use her that way. I've tried to be accommodating and reasonable in working with you, but I'm through with that. My patience with you and your people is gone." His voice was low with warning. The rage was flowing through him. His eyes were green fire.

Trip stepped closer to his friend. He could tell Archer's control was slipping. None of the humans had taken a seat. They stood looking at Kamen, Urasia, and the other Vorloren Council members with contempt. Malcolm didn't hide any of his disgust; it showed plainly on his face. He didn't fully trust the transgenic, but he wasn't about to let be brought and sold like an object either.

"Please, Captain," Kamen pled. "We need her help."

"No," Archer said firmly. "If this is how you apologize for trying to kill me and my people, then we're leaving. Our cooperation is over." Trip was right beside him, reminding him to try and stay calm.

"All right, all right," Kamen said caving in. "We won't force her or you to get involved in our conflict. It's just that you offered such hope that we could finally end this siege."

"Would you still be willing to let us finish with our analysis of the transgenic?" Urasia contritely asked. "We really didn't mean any harm to come to her or to any of you. We just want to end all the bloodshed and death our people have been suffering. Please don't hold this one mistake against us, Captain."

His bluff had worked. Archer knew the Council was not being completely honest with him, and that they were still hiding some other agenda. He could see it in the faces and postures of the other, silent Council members as he cautiously observed them. He needed to stick around a little while longer and find out what it was. Urasia's capitulation would afford the Captain that opportunity.

"I'll accept your apology and keep up our end of our original agreement. After all, it is because of your people that we even know about Mac. But I don't want Romdel anywhere near her, and I want to deal with only Chief Suran from here on out. As soon as you have your data, you will let us leave with Mac. If not, I'll have Starfleet and the Vulcan High Command so far up your asses that it'll make your war look like a playground fight," Archer threatened.

The ten Council of Elders all looked at one another and then nodded. "We will accept your offer. And we will do all that we need to as quickly as possible so you can be on your way. We want to have good future relations with your people, Captain. It may not seem like it, but we really respect and admire your species."

"I wish I could say the same about yours," Archer couldn't help but say.

Suddenly he was dizzy and felt like he was going to pass out. His vision swam and his breath came more rapidly. Reed and Trip caught him before he hit the floor. "We need to call Phlox," Malcolm said in alarm.

"No, I'll be fine in a minute," the Captain managed to say. "He's got more important things to do right now," he said meaningfully. Archer wanted Phlox focused on finding out how to help Mac. The doctor could worry about him later. "I promise I'll rest back at the palace."

Trip and Malcolm exchanged knowing looks. They knew that the Captain would fight them if they tried to get him to go up to the ship or try to bring Phlox down. They'd humor Archer for now, but later might be a different story.

* * *

T'Pol had opened up the balcony doors and stepped outside for some fresh air after talking with Mac. The human super soldier had joined her looking out into the coming dawn. The sky was a light purple where the sun was trying to peek up and over the mountains in the east. It was cool and crisp out on the balcony, and Mac finally felt calm and collected again. Mediating with T'Pol as her teacher had worked wonders for both of them.

A strange and disturbing smell hit Mac's sensitive nose. It was the sickly, sweet sugar smell that had put her on alert a few nights ago. Something was out in the woods, waiting. All of Mac's internal instincts screamed at her that there was danger out there. She turned to T'Pol to tell her, when she saw T'Pol stagger and grab her stomach. The Vulcan let out a moan of pain.

"T'Pol what's wrong?" Mac asked, trying not to panic.

"Trip," T'Pol gasped and doubled over as an intense and cutting pain sliced through her abdomen and back. "Trip's been hurt."

* * *

The Captain, Trip, and Malcolm had just been dropped off on the path up to the palace by some of the Vorloren hovercraft. They wanted to walk the winding road up to the palace. It was well-lit and the pre-dawn was calm and peaceful. They needed time to discuss the meeting they had had with the Vorloren Council of Elders alone. They weren't technically alone, because they did have an escort of Vorloren and MACO soldiers up ahead of them, but they could walk slowly behind them and still have a discrete conversation. It seemed, however, that Malcolm and Trip were doing most of the talking. Archer was very quiet, lost in his own thoughts, thoughts about Mac.

As the trio was hiking up the path to the palace, all hell broke loose. Vorloren guards began dropping like flies, but there was no sound of weapons fire. The Vorloren soldiers that fell dripped thick, silvery blood from terrible slashes and rips in their bodies. Malcolm felt a cold, snaking fear wash through him. They were under attack. He had to get to his men and protect his captain. Adrenaline spiking though his veins soon replaced the fear.

Then horror struck the armory officer as he saw the MACOs try to defend themselves against something in the dark. They, like the Vorlorens, received large stab wounds, and some had their throats viciously cut. What the bloody hell was going on? Reed was unarmed, but he'd be damned if he'd give up without fighting back. He had to help the MACOs, they were good boys and girls, and he didn't want to lose any of them.

* * *

Archer felt the breeze stir as something brushed past him. He too was trying to process the terrible scene before him. He could smell the blood and fear in the air. Out of no where pain lanced his left arm and right thigh. Rich, red blood welled up from the deep gashes that appeared. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. Someone was trying to kill him, but instead of panic, anger flashed through him.

* * *

Reed was aware that Captain Archer was under assault too. Then he sensed a presence just behind him; little tingles ran up his spine raising the hair on the back of his neck. Someone or something was after him. Taking a deep breath Malcolm concentrated on the location of the presence and ducked just as the air whistled around him. His invisible attacker grunted as it stumbled to the ground losing its balance. The thing hadn't expected Reed to move out of the way. For a brief moment Malcolm could see what was attacking him. The neon-green, bumpy skin gave it away; it was a Suliban.

Surprise and confusion hit Reed as a sinking feeling began to pool in his stomach. The Suliban quickly recovered and camouflaged himself again. As Reed was trying to get over his shock, a sharp and thick blade of some kind pierced his shoulder, and the pain sent him into spasms. It went in smoothly, cutting and slicing into muscle and deep tissue. The blow forced him to his knees, and Malcolm's vision blurred as tears came to his eyes.

* * *

Trip was fighting for his life too. He dodged from side to side, barely avoiding a sharp object slicing into his arm. It was maddening not being able to see what was assaulting him. Suddenly, something thrust its way into his stomach and blinding pain followed. Trip out cried as he watched in horror as his abdomen was cut open. Something twisted itself deeper inside him as blood poured out of the wound. Something else slashed at his back, all the way through to the bone. Terror unlike any the chief engineer had known before seized him. He collapsed to the ground as his body gave out. He realized his blood was spilling out around him. That was bad; he needed to stop it, collect it, and put it back inside of him. He was bleeding out and he had the strangest sensation of cold filling his body.

* * *

Archer was also struggling to protect himself. He saw Trip go down, saw the dark liquid flow from his body. _No, not Trip! _his mind screamed.

The Captain tried to get to Trip, but another slash to his left leg forced him to the ground. Reed was going down too. The rage enveloped him again. Pretending to be more wounded than he was, Archer listened for his attacker to move closer. When he thought it was close he struck out with his uninjured leg. The Captain felt the kick connect with something solid, and a Suliban flickered briefly into view.

Total disbelief and alarm dampened some of his anger. What the hell was going on? Why were the Suliban trying to kill him and his people? Sure they had had run-ins and fought against each other before, but the Suliban had never been so vicious, so murderous, and this wasn't like them. A primal fear started to overtake the Captain, paralyzing him in place. _The Suliban were here to kill them._ Another swipe ripped into the leg he had used to kick his attacker with. More blood flowed and Archer collapsed fully onto the ground. His heart beat was so rapid he could hear it in his ears. This was unreal. It wasn't happening.

Then as quickly as it had begun, only seconds before, it was over. The aggressors were gone. The Vorloren soldiers and MACOs that had not been taken out were quickly sending for reinforcements and medical help. Reed lay bleeding from his shoulder wound and lacerations on his arms. Archer lay bleeding from the slices to his arms and legs. Both were not critically injured, just maimed and in excruciating pain. Trip, however, was going critical from the gaping wound in his abdomen and the deep gash on his back. He was starting to drift out of consciousness. T'Pol's image drifted into view and then was gone. The chief engineer knew she felt his pain and fear through their bond.

In mere minutes the wounded men were all transported to the palace and Phlox was there to tend to them. Mac and T'Pol met them coming into the palace. Both had sensed the danger just before the alarms in the palace started going off. The two of them offered any assistance they could. Nothing could have prepared them for the bloody scene in front of them.

Seeing Jonathan's uniform soaked with his blood almost sent Mac over edge with rage. Somehow, though, she managed to hold it off. She needed to know what had happened. The Chimera remained in the background for the time being. Phlox assured Mac that the Captain would be fine. His injures were not life threatening, just ugly. Lieutenant Reed would also recover just fine. Then Mac saw Trip. He was white as a sheet, lying virtually lifeless on an exam table, in Phlox's makeshift lab. His breathing was way too shallow for Mac's liking. She noticed that his heartbeat was very rapid and his blood pressure was dropping quickly. T'Pol saw all this too, and found herself at his side, taking one of his hands in hers. His hand was cold and clammy to the touch.

"What is Commander Tucker's condition?" she demanded.

"I have stopped his bleeding, but he has lost so much blood, that even a transfusion at this point would do little good," Phlox's voice was grave. "He's dying."

T'Pol tried to repress her emotional response, but partially failed. Tears filled her eyes. Trip couldn't be dying. "No!" she whispered in a very strained voice. She balled her one of her hands into a fist at her side, as she fought for control. Her nails bit into her palm. She had to remain calm, stoic. "There must be something you can do for him, Doctor. We cannot lose him," she said carefully. It was ironic that the Vulcan had just shared that thought with Mac, although on a much more personal level.

"I'm sorry T'Pol, but there is nothing to be done," Phlox tried to be soft, but firm. "He has lost almost fifty percent of his blood volume. Most humans have to be aggressively resuscitated when they have lost forty percent of their blood volume, and it usually is not successful. Commander Tucker should have expired minutes ago. But we all know what a stubborn young man he is."

Archer lay on an exam table across from his friend. Although he was not very coherent, he was aware enough to feel fear because of Trip's deteriorating condition. He didn't know if he could go through this again. There was no clone to save Trip this time. Reed was blissfully unconscious during this whole ordeal.

Mac looked from one face to another and saw defeat and sorrow in each of them. This wasn't happening. Trip, her singing buddy, was not lying there in front of her dying from acute blood loss. The heartache she saw in T'Pol eyes was almost too much for her to bear, even though the Vulcan woman was trying to hide it. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply. The Chimera had completely faded away for the moment.

_Be unselfish_. Mac's comforting voice was back, just a whisper. She felt it in her heart and in her mind. _Give of yourself._ What did that mean? What could Mac do that would help in this situation? She was only one, lonely person. She didn't have the advanced medical skills that Phlox did. She was willing to do anything to save the life of this man she barely knew and stop the anguish of those around her. He had reached out to her with friendship touching her heart, and it was breaking her heart to see everyone suffer so much.

_Give of yourself,_ the voice spoke to Mac again. What could she possibly have to give Trip that would keep him from dying? Then a thought, that didn't come from her, hit her point blank. The revelation surged through her mind. How could she not have seen the answer that was right in front of her? She was wasting time. The transgenic had to get Phlox to listen to her. This new idea would work, Mac was sure of it. "Doctor Phlox," her voice was soft and low when she spoke. "May I offer a suggestion?"

Phlox turned to the petite super soldier, intrigued. "Of course, my dear, I am open to any suggestions."

"Give Trip a blood transfusion, from me," Mac told him.

"Phlox said a blood transfusion would not be effective. That Commander Tucker is too far passed the point where that would be of any use," T'Pol cut in on the conversation. "Even if it was, how do we know if your blood type is compatible with his?"

Mac smiled thinly. "As you well know I'm not like most people." That was an understatement. "All transgenics are genetically coded to have type O negative blood. That way, on the battlefield, we can be a universal blood donor to anyone, transgenic or not, who is severally injured and needs a blood transfusion. It also means that we can only receive type O negative blood if we needed a transfusion, mostly like from another transgenic. That was meant to keep our blood 'pure' and not mix it up with normal human blood.

"Transgenics were also designed with the idea in mind of allowing us to swap vital organs if we needed to when critically injured. If I was shot in the heart and another transgenic in the head, they could take his or her heart and give it to me, and at least one of us would survive, instead of losing both of us. We were made to be interchangeable with each other," Mac explained.

"But the doctor just said any kind of transfusion would not help now. Commander Tucker is too far gone for that treatment to be useful," a strong male voice repeated T'Pol's earlier statement. "Why would you offer that as a suggestion to help him?" Chief Suran, who had been just standing back watching, now asked.

Phlox stared at Mac in astonishment. "Your blood would be safe to give to Commander Tucker because it is O negative, and its regenerative properties may accelerate his healing," he mused, and then he realized another problem. "But the Gen Virus in your blood could mutate in the Commander's cells and kill him. Isn't that what it did to normal humans when it was tested?"

"Perhaps," Mac replied, "but my DNA has rewritten the GV's programming. My body has mutated the GV again, back to its original purpose, so I can heal almost any injury or wound I receive. I'm confident that, by receiving blood directly from me, it would do the same for Trip because I've already changed the GV and made it safe. Doctor, he doesn't have to die from his extreme blood loss, my blood can save him."

Again, Phlox stared at Mac. What the super soldier was telling him made sense and could work. He came up with another roadblock, however. "McKenna, you would have to give him at least half of your blood volume to do him any good. That would kill you."

Mac understood that, but saving Trip's life was worth the risk. "It could, but I think the GV will compensate for my blood loss. It will be replenished from within me."

Archer still in a state of semi-limbo heard every word Mac had spoken. He couldn't let her risk her own life for Trip's. The Captain remembered the situation with Trip's clone with renewed guilt. He would not let another person sacrifice herself the way Sim had.

"No, Mac," he could only whisper.

"You are not my commanding officer, Jonathan, you can't order me not to do this," Mac said with gentle determination.

"Phlox, you can't let her," the Captain rasped.

"I don't intent to, Captain," the doctor assured him. "There is no guarantee it will work. I can't let McKenna risk her life without knowing the certainty of the outcome."

Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Listen gentlemen, this is my choice to make. I want to try and save Trip's life. I do not care if it means losing my own. I have brought so much death to humanity; please let me bring some life to it." Her plea was earnest and full of deep need. "Let me do something good for a change."

Phlox didn't know what to say. Archer too was dumbstruck. Mac looked at T'Pol. "Let me give you a life with him," Mac appealed to the Vulcan woman. "He is a valued member of a starship crew that needs him. I have been out of the timeline for one hundred and fifty years. I have not been missed, haven't contributed anything to the present, and this way my life can have meaning. I can make up for my past. Please let me."

T'Pol attempted to react on a logical level, but she couldn't totally fight off the emotional reaction deep within her. "What McKenna is suggesting should be considered. Not only would she be saving Trip, but perhaps herself as well. It is a logical argument."

Phlox weighed the case Mac had presented carefully. "Are you sure you want to take the risk? I am not confident it will work," he asked Mac.

"Absolutely," she said forcefully. "We need to stop debating and get to work, or Trip will die."

"Mac, don't," was all the Captain could say.

"I have to do this, Jonathan. I have to give of myself," with that said, pushed her way to another exam table and waited for Phlox to begin the preparations for the blood transfusion.

"Doctor, I am ordering you not to go through with this," Archer hissed. "Trip is a good friend and a fine officer, but he has already had his second chance. We can't ask some else to give their life for him."

"We didn't ask, Captain," Phlox stated matter-of-factly, coming to a decision. "Both times it was offered willingly. McKenna wants to do this. It is her choice, not ours. Besides you are in no condition to be giving any orders. I, as the Chief Medical Officer, have relieved you of duty, until your faculties have all returned."

Phlox then turned to Mac who was now on the exam table, next to Trip's. He started to hook them up together for the transfusion to take place. "Thank you, Phlox," Mac smiled affectionately at him.

"No, McKenna McKnight, we thank you," Phlox returned her smile with a heavy heart and finished his arrangements to initiate the blood transfusion.

TBC

**What's the verdict? Should I continue? I need reviews for encouragement, pretty please!!**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Is Trip going to live? Is Mac okay? And what does her sacrifice mean for her and Archer's relationship? Read and review to find out. Just a little warning about this chapter: I wanted it show Mac and Archer's relationship progress and I wanted it to be romantic. This chapter has a small love scene. Nothing out of control or outlandish, but it still might be sensitive to some readers. The chapter definitely has a T rating. Just so you know. Hope you like how this chapter goes. Enjoy!**

**Thanks to LadyRainbow; she's an angel. Her editing is a lifesaver!!**

**Chapter 16**

When Mac awoke, she was aware of two sensations: of being safe and sound, and of a warm and strong masculine presence. Even before she was fully conscious, she breathed in the deep earthen and salty ocean smell of her Jonathan. The transgenic heard a slow, resting heartbeat right next to her, and she felt the pressure of an arm wrapped around her waist. Her cheek brushed balmy, bare skin. She slowly opened her eyes to confirm what the rest of her senses were telling her.

She was indeed lying in a big, soft bed, snuggled up with Archer. He was lying on his back sound asleep. Mac was positioned on her side; her body pressed up against his, her head resting on his shoulder, one leg entwined with one of his, and one of his arms wrapped around her waist. One of her arms was lazily draped across his hips, the other rested on his chest. Jonathan was shirtless, but had on pajama bottoms. Mac looked down at herself and saw that she had on a light peach, thin strapped, low cut, nightgown. Who kept changing her clothes for her?

This was the last place Mac expected to wake up in. Not that she was complaining, but Jonathan had seemed angry with her for choosing to donate her blood to Trip. She had been in and out of consciousness during the past three days, recovering from her contribution. Mac had been aware of Jonathan's presence in the makeshift sickbay while Phlox's osmotic eel had worked on his wounds. A cursory glance at each injury site let Mac know he had healed nicely. The vibes that Mac's foggy mind had received from Jonathan at the time had seemed very negative. To be in his arms now and to be alive was a delight. It was a miracle he was sleeping, from what she had gathered from Phlox.

Mac had to resist the urge to run her hand up and down his chest. She didn't want to wake him yet. Her Jonathan had a nice, broad, and muscular chest, with a light seasoning of dark chest hair. She watched it rise and fall with each breath he took. Mac couldn't help comparing him to the last man she had been with, Khan. Khan had been very muscular, almost body builder muscular, and had been smooth chested. She decided she preferred Jonathan's appearance to Khan's. Jonathan was all-natural with nothing force bred about him.

Ravenous hunger then hit Mac. She hadn't eaten in three days and her body had worked overtime in replenishing her blood supply with help from whatever treatments Phlox had given her. Mac vaguely remembered that the doctor had been pleased with the results of the transfusion. Trip was slowly, but surely recovering from his wounds and loss of blood. Her genetically enhanced blood was healing him. A warm and fuzzy feeling spread from Mac's head to her toes at the thought that Trip was going to be all right. She sighed contentedly, but she still needed some solid food.

Mac carefully and silently extracted herself from Archer and went to slide out of the bed. She realized that she was not in her bedroom, but in Jonathan's. She could tell by the red and blue color scheme in the bedroom; she thought it suited Archer. All of a sudden, probably because she had thought about the Eugenic tyrant, she experienced another vivid and powerful sensory memory of him. Again it was during a very intimate moment and it felt damn good. Mac slid to the floor enraptured in the remembered pleasure. Then it was gone.

She was so sick of the impressions than Khan had left on her. He was an evil bastard that she should have killed. Instead she had ended up in his bed for three years and had enjoyed every minute of it. He had freed her wild side and set it loose. It had taken everything Mac had to recage it and gain control again. Maybe Phlox had been right when he had intimated that the sensory memories she was experiencing were caused by her clamping down too hard on her primal side. Her beast would only take so much, and her subconscious must be trying to deal with her contradictory feelings. She had hated Khan, but loved what he could do to her. It was a horrible paradox.

After a few minutes of deep breaths and different thoughts, Mac stood. She was a little shaky, but not too bad. She was glad that she hadn't been touching Jonathan when it happened. He didn't need to go through the experience again. It was quite disquieting, and Mac didn't want to add to his troubles.

A head with big floppy ears appeared from down around the corner of the bed. Big, dark, puppy dog eyes stared at her as the little creature froze when it saw Mac. She blinked. Was that a dog, a beagle even? The dog cautiously approached her, sniffing as it went. Mac carefully squatted down next to the beagle and slowly put her hand out to it. The dog sniffed at her hand and then licked it in greeting.

The genetically engineered woman couldn't help but sniff the air around the dog herself. It had a very musky smell, but she also scented earth and ocean. This dog must belong to Jonathan; it was his dog. Why didn't it surprise her that Jonathan had a dog? Mac smiled and gently rubbed the beagle under its chin and then ruffled its ears. The dog happily licked her back, getting her right in the face. Mac tried not to laugh out loud; she still didn't want to wake Archer. She vigorously petted the small animal then and allowed it to jump into her lap.

"Hi, there little fella," Mac cooed to the beagle in barely a whisper. "It's nice to meet you too."

Mac cuddled the dog for a few more minutes and then her growling stomach reminded her that she needed to eat. She was sure the dog could smell Jonathan all over her and that had helped him to decide she was all right to befriend. She had briefly worried that the animal part in her would scare the dog, or confuse it horribly. It had done neither, and the beagle continued to bound around her as she stood again and walked to the bedroom door, leading out to the hallway.

Listening to see how many guards were outside the bedroom door, Mac paused. She heard six distinct heartbeats, three human and three Vorloren. The guards were there now more for protection from the invisible attackers, than because of Mac. The genetically engineered woman was very disturbed by what had happened. She didn't like the invaders stealth and speed, or their actions. What was the purpose of trying to kill Jonathan and his crewmates? It was a question she hoped would be answered soon. Mac knew that the _Enterprise_ people knew who the assailants were, but she didn't. She would have to talk to Jonathan about them.

Mac opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The guards all snapped to attention. She quietly closed the door behind her because she didn't want to let the dog out.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Mac said, as she had noticed the sun had set through the bedroom windows, and twilight had begun.

"Can we help you, ma'am?" a young, MACO corporal asked.

Mac looked at the name on his uniform, Corporal Matthews. "Yes, Corporal Matthews, I need to ask a small favor." Mac indicated how small with one of her forefingers and thumbs.

The MACO wasn't expecting this. He just stared at her. "Ma'am?" he said confused.

"I don't want to cause anymore trouble by wandering around the palace without permission," Mac explained. "Could one of you fine military people find a girl something to eat? Preferably something with a lot of iron and protein in it."

The six guards exchanged looks and then the Corporal smiled. They were relieved that she wasn't going to cause trouble. "I would be happy to see what Chef Orlin could fix for you, ma'am," Corporal Matthews replied.

"Thanks a bunch," Mac smiled back. Then she turned to one of the Vorloren guards. "Do any of you know what a guitar is?" When she received blank stares, she knew they didn't. "It's a musical instrument," she elaborated. "I saw something like it in the palace music room hanging on the wall. It has six strings; it's light and portable. It has a skinny neck and then widens and becomes kind of round or oval shaped; maybe like a figure eight." Mac tried to describe it in as much detail as she could.

One of the Vorlorens seemed to finally get her point. "You mean a Tenyaunie?"

"I guess so," Mac said. "Would one of you be kind enough to bring one to me? I need something to do or I'll go stir crazy."

The Vorlorens seemed to consider her request. "I don't see what it would hurt. Sure, I'll go get one for you," an older Vorloren with dark brown hair told her.

"Thanks so much," Mac said sincerely. "You guys are the best." A little flattery never hurt. "I'll just wait here, until you get back. I don't want to disturb Captain Archer. You knocking on the door to let me know you're back might wake him up."

The guards seemed to have no problem with her request. It wasn't everyday that they got to talk to a beautiful woman in a revealing, short nightgown. They engaged her in idle conversation; while they let their eyes wander over her form. Mac didn't mind. It was nice to be noticed for just being a woman, once in a while.

It didn't take long for the MACO or the Vorloren guard to return from their separate quests. Mac was able to make a little small talk with the other guards; mainly answering questions about what life was actually like back in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. The Vorloren soldier presented her with exactly what she had pictured in her mind. The Tenyaunie was almost identical to a guitar, expect its shape was a little more elongated. The MACO presented her with a tray full of food. Everything looked familiar.

"Doctor Phlox and Chef from _Enterprise_ gave Chef Orlin all the ingredients humans like and need to eat," Corporal Matthews explained.

What was on the platters looked like a large steak sandwich on whole wheat bread, with a huge bake potato, and a variety of vegetables. Mac thought the vegetables looked like a combination of broccoli, green beans, and beets. A tall glass of orange juice accompanied the meal, along with a big piece of chocolate cake. Mac beamed. This was just what she needed. Phlox obviously informed Chef Orlin of her need for foods rich in iron. Beef, whole wheat bread, potatoes still in their skins, and many vegetables contained a good amount of iron in them. Mac assumed the orange juice was provided for the vitamin C in it. Vitamin C helped the human body absorb the iron from the foods containing it at a faster, better rate.

"Wow, you guys sure can deliver," Mac said appreciatively. "Thanks."

"You're more than welcome, ma'am," Corporal Matthews beamed back at her, pleased he had accomplished his mission to her satisfaction. "Do you need help carrying all this into your room?" He was partly being polite, but he also like being around her.

Mac took the tray in one hand. It was light for her; super strength was a nice ability to have. She took the guitar-like instrument in her other hand. "Just open the door for me and we'll call that good," Mac replied. "Just be careful not to let the Captain's dog out."

"Captain Archer brought Porthos down from _Enterprise_, huh?" the Corporal asked.

"So that's his name." Mac was glad to have that little piece of information.

Corporal Matthews opened the door a crack for Mac and let her edge her way inside with her burdens without letting Porthos slip past her. "Thanks again, gentlemen. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"The pleasure was all ours, ma'am," the Corporal reluctantly closed the door after Mac. He and his fellow guards had a hard time believing she was as dangerous as she had proven to be. No woman that beautiful should be that deadly. The Corporal also couldn't help but wonder what her and Captain's Archer's relationship really was. The Captain was a human male after all. Had he fallen under her spell, like the Corporal just had?

Once back inside, Mac decided to take the food and the Tenyaunie out on to the balcony. That way she could eat her fill and then unwind with some guitar music without bugging her roommate. Mac smiled at the thought of Jonathan lying in the bed in the next room; her heart beat a little faster at thinking about having been in his arms. She shook her head to clear it. She felt out her beast next. It seemed quite content to be curled up inside her right now, almost as if it were sleeping. That was good.

Mac took a seat in a white, wicker-like rocking chair and set the tray of food on a large crystalline table. She dove into her food, first eating it in big gulps, and then realizing she should probably chew it well and eat it slowly. The meat was delicious. The potato was warm and creamy in her mouth, and even the vegetables tasted good. The orange juice helped to quench her thirst, and the chocolate cake had her in heaven.

When Mac was finished with all of her food, she set the plates aside and let Porthos lick them for anything that was left. The little beagle was very grateful for any scraps he could get, which sadly wasn't much. Mac closed the balcony door as she picked up the guitar and started to tune it. Her enhanced hearing let her hear and sense musical notes with perfect pitch. She stood next to the balcony railing looking out onto the black-with-night waters of the lake, which were glassy calm. Mac began to pick and strum, alternating between chords and just picking individual notes, getting a feel for the guitar.

The beautiful, young woman pulled one of the little crystalline tables sitting out on the balcony over to where she was standing, gazing out upon the lake. She placed a bare foot up on the small table and let the guitar sit on her knee as she continued to play. Mac just let the notes flow around her for a while, not trying to play any particular song. After several minutes a lulling and sweet tune began to emerge. Mac went with it, building and creating it as she went. She changed the timing and rhythm many times. Finally, she decided to put words to it. The lines of the song spoke of how dear life was even though it was not always easy. It fit how she felt about being able to give of herself, despite her flaws. The song was symbolic of her new perspective about the meaning of life.

"_While the dying world redefines the reasons we strive to exist, _

_We feign control though we're bound to learn the meaning of moments like this_

_Cause in the peaceful hour, the quiet spell _

_Seduced by the promise of bliss, we soon forget that nothing's happened yet _

_We're living of moments like this."_

Her voice was melodic, soft, and soothing.

She then crescendoed and put more feeling into the next part of the song.

"_So hold me, whisper gently this is what we live for, how we learn who we are _

_It defines us, ever reminding us that life is never more precious than this."_

She went back to a slower tempo and softer voice.

"_From the dim light in the grayness, the aim of the soul tends to miss _

_But when the clouds catch fire and the oceans pitch_

_We're made for moments like this."_

She crescendoed again, and increased her beat and tempo.

_"So hold me, whisper gently that there's nothing to fear_

_You'll always be near, to remind me, to stand behind me_

_Although life can be rough we can never give up."_

She changed tempo once again, very strong and full of emotion.

"_It's in our power to face the storm will all its fury and madness_

_The flash of thunder rolls behind us with a longing and sadness_

_The clouds will gray."_

She slowed down again for a little bit, and then quicken again.

"_Hold me, whisper gently this what we live for, how we learn who we are_

_It defines us, ever reminding us that life is never more precious than this_

_Hold me, whisper gently that there's nothing to fear,_

_You'll always be near, to remind me, stand behind me_

_Although life can be rough we can never give up."__1_

She held the last few notes out long and full with her slight alto voice. She continued playing for a while, back at the slow beginning tempo.

"That was not only a beautiful song, but it was also inspirational and uplifting," Archer's voice spoke from behind her. Mac turned to see him standing in the doorway that led into his bedroom from the balcony. She had sensed his presence a few moments ago, but had decided to finish the song anyway. "It's a nice change from a few days ago."

"A lot has happened in a few days time," Mac responded to his statement. She looked away from him and her gaze returned to look out into the stillness of the night. She wanted to drop the guitar and run into his arms, but she restrained herself. Mac was still unsure of how he felt about her. He didn't seem upset, but man was a master of deceit, as she had learned through bitter experience.

"You can say that again," Archer said and joined her by the balcony railing. "How are you feeling?" he asked, noticing the tray of dishes.

"Pretty good, considering," Mac replied. "I was really hungry, so I got our friends out in the hallway to get me something to eat. I hope that was okay."

Jonathan smiled warmly at her. "Shouldn't be any problem with it. I'm glad you asked and didn't run off by yourself this time."

"I'm learning," she said in a whisper, still not looking at him, even though he was right beside her now.

"I can see that you're learning," Jonathan said as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, gently nudging the guitar out of his way.

"How's Trip doing, by the way?" Mac tried to change the subject.

"Thanks to you Trip's making a full recovery. It will still be a day or so before he's up and round, but Phlox is literally beside himself with how fast your blood is healing him." He then nuzzled her neck with his nose and lips. He felt her shiver and knew it wasn't because she was cold. He put his voice right in her ear. "I'm sorry for my initial reaction to your selfless act."

Mac started. Jonathan was apologizing to her. He had every right to be angry with her. She had put him in a very awkward position and made him relive the painful memory of the incident with Trip's clone. She didn't think her actions were completely selfless either. She was trying to redeem herself, just a little.

Jonathan continued whispering into her ear. "I would've done exactly the same thing in your place," he told her. "I would give my life for any one of my crew without any hesitation. They're that important to me. It's nice to know they're that important to someone else. Phlox had to resuscitate you twice. We almost lost you. It nearly killed me. I was upset before because I didn't want to lose you in the process of saving Trip. Can you understand that? You are _that_ precious to me." His voice was low and deep now.

"Say that again." She didn't think she'd heard him right.

She felt Jonathan smile against her ear. "I'm in love with you McKenna McKnight. Losing you would be like losing part of myself," he said this very softly.

Mac truly couldn't believe his words. It was what she was secretly hoping for, but it was too good to be true. "How can you feel that way about someone like me? I'm a monster, Jonathan. How could anybody love me?" Her voice was quivering.

Mac felt Jonathan pull her closer to him, his chest brushing against her back. "It's not as hard as you think. The Chimera's only part of who you are, and not all of her is bad. But there's much more to you than that. What you were willing to do for Trip, for a man that you barely knew, a stranger really, shows that there's a lot of good in you too. That's what I'm drawn to. I can see beyond the monster and see the noble woman within."

The woman in turmoil set the guitar down and turned to him. "I'm not sure I know how to love back," she said as she finally met his eyes. They revealed the truth of his words to her.

"I'll show you," he told her and kissed her mouth. He took it slow, letting the passion and need build. The kiss was long and full of as much love, as it was desire.

Porthos chose that moment to romp up on the crystalline table and in between the couple, wanting the Captain's attention. "Porthos," Archer scolded lightly.

"It's all right, Jonathan," Mac said with a laugh. "He's just happy to see you. I should have known that you'd have a dog and a beagle no less."

"Yeah, I have kind of neglected him of late. He really is a good companion," Archer chuckled with her. "I meant what I said," he changed the subject this time and looked at her again. "It took a lot of courage and unselfishness for you to offer your life for Trip's. I am forever indebted to you. Trip is one of my closest friends and the best engineer Starfleet has. Thank you, Mac. Thank you so very much for saving his life, and I'm sorry I selfishly tried to stop you from doing so."

Mac pulled out of his embrace and walked over to a white, wicker-like loveseat, matching the rocking chair, and sat, taking the guitar with her. "I know about Sim, Jonathan," she stated softly.

"What? How?" he was almost afraid to ask.

Mac hung her head in shame and confessed. "I hacked into _Enterprise's_ computer files and looked over your service record. I also listened to some of your personal logs. T'Pol caught me doing it. I'm surprised she didn't tell on me."

"She didn't say a thing about it to me," Archer said shocked. "How were you able to do that without the Vorlorens or anybody aboard _Enterprise_ knowing?" He was thrilled to know that she could pull something like that off. It gave him hope of getting off the moon without having to resort to desperate measures.

Mac looked tentatively at him as she explained how she had used the personal computer terminal in her bedroom and figured her way through the Vorlorens systems and _Enterprise's_ disguising her tracks along the way. "You even got through their deflector shield?" Archer asked part of the way through her story.

"Yeah, that was the hardest part," Mac said. "Finding the right codes, and then the right sequence for the codes, was tricky."

"And you did all this just to read up on me?" Jonathan said a little flattered. "Why not just ask me?"

She looked down at the floor again. "I didn't think you'd tell me. I know how repulsed you were by the whole 'share the kill with me' episode, and I totally understand why. It was sick and wrong. I thought you'd want nothing to do with me. Even though you told me you'd stick by me, I still feared you'd wash your hands of me. I just wanted to try and understand where you were coming from a little better, that's all."

"And you picked the experience I had with Sim as your starting point?" He came and sat beside her on the loveseat. "Why?"

"You mentioned that you had made tough command decisions that you weren't proud of and that your father wouldn't have approved of your actions," Mac said as she fidgeted in her seat. "You also told me that you couldn't judge me too harshly on my past because you had done things that you felt guilt and shame over. I had to know what some of those choices were. I needed to understand your reasoning and get inside your head. I'm sorry if you feel like I violated your privacy."

"No, it's not that," Jonathan said gently cupping her face in his hands. "Believe it or not, but I have demons to overcome, just like you. I'm glad that you know more about me, but I fear what you've found out about me you won't like."

Mac felt tears in her eyes. He thought she was going to thinking badly of him because he wasn't perfect. "Oh, Jonathan, I'm relieved to know that you're truly a human being. Someone who makes mistakes, or regrets some of the things he has done. That way I don't feel as horrible, though you haven't done nearly anything like I have. The decisions you made and the actions you took were because you were looking out for others. Most of what you had to do you did because you thought it was right or the best course at the time. You were trying to do a greater good. I can't fault you for any of that."

Jonathan let his thumbs rub her cheeks in soft, loving strokes. "Sim taught me a lot," he said softly. "I still can't believe I let Phlox bring him to life just to make him a tissue donor for Trip. Phlox had told me that Sim's lifespan would only be fifteen days, and that he could experience a full life, although it would be a short one. It turned out that Sim would end up dead from the procedure, and his short life would be cut even shorter. He grew up in a matter of days, contained most of Trip's memories, made friends among the crew, and even helped get the_ Enterprise_ out of a deadly situation. He was a contributing part of my crew. He liked his life. He looked into ways to try and extend his fifteen days to more than that. He didn't want to die," Archer broke off.

Mac set aside the guitar again and took Jonathan in her arms. He continued on with his tale, comforted by her touch and closeness. "Sim asked me if I would take him down to sickbay at gun point and make him sacrifice himself. I told him I would. He said I wasn't a murderer, but I told him I needed Trip and I would do anything to make that happen.

"Sim tried to steal a shuttle pod and leave _Enterprise_. At the last moment he chose not to run. He chose to do what he considered was the right thing. By saving Trip, he felt he was saving Earth. His sacrifice was not in vain. We succeeded in our mission. We stopped the Xindi weapon and saved humanity. But it still doesn't take the sting out what I had ordered done. I am grateful for Sim, but I can't help but hate myself for creating the circumstances that caused him to have make such a sacrifice," he finished.

"Jonathan," Mac said as she slipped a hand over one of his, her other hand cupping his cheek, like he had done to her. "Did it ever occur to you that military commanders of every kind, in every time era, have had to make those heartbreaking life and death decisions all the time, on and off of the battlefield? Hostile aliens had attacked Earth. You were given a huge and daunting task.

"You told Sim that you were born to be an explorer, it was who you were. Going from explorer to a military commander in the middle of a crisis could not have been easy. You did the best you could with what experience you had. You can only train someone so much and the rest they have to grow into. You had to learn as you went, plus it didn't sound like Starfleet focused on hardcore military training. That's what the MACOs are for. You had to change and adapt to your new role. It was painful, gut wrenching, and bitter, but you probably learned a lot about yourself and are now a better person because of it. You learned more about what your true limits were, how far you would go if pushed." Mac paused a minute and then continued.

"I'm sorry for making you relive the experience, but you had nothing to do with me being willing sacrificing my life for Trip's," she told him. "I couldn't see a good man like him die so senselessly. I wanted to help. I wanted to redeem myself. It's funny how one bad decision, one bad choice can follow you around forever; so I figured why one good decision, one good choice, can't do the same. I'm learning that part of my problem with my beast, my demon, is that I dwell on it too much. I've only been thinking about me and my needs. I need to get out of myself and do things for other people. I need to stop being so selfish and focus my attention on what I can do for others. Maybe then, I can have some peace."

Archer pulled back from her and looked at her with a little awe. Where had she gotten so inspired from? "Where did these revelations come from?" he asked instead.

"I don't know. They're just feelings, intuitions, promptings," Mac shook her head still confused about it, but glad for it. "Something helped me see beyond myself a few days ago, and that's why I offered my blood to save Trip. I'm thankful and delighted that the situation didn't take my life, but I would do it again, even if it did take my life. Maybe Sim's story inspired me, because I want to be that kind of person, not the perfect soldier, not a superhero, just someone who helps people because it's the right thing to do."

"You are amazing, you know that?" Jonathan smiled at her again, tears in his eyes. "Ever since Sim did what he did and the fact that I've come close to giving my own life for that of my crew's, a thought I read somewhere keeps coming to me. It goes something like; 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' Both you and Sim exemplify that saying. You _do_ know how to love, Mac."

She had never thought about it that way before. "Maybe you're right," Mac said slowly. "But I still have a long way to go."

"Don't we all," Archer said and he then tried to break the seriousness of the moment. It was getting a little heavy for him. "Do you have any more upbeat songs in your repertoire? I think we could use one right about now, don't you?"

Mac smiled smugly back. "I might be able to come up with something. Give me a minute."

She grabbed the guitar again and began to fiddle with it. Archer stood and played with Porthos for a moment. When Mac's seemed to finally settle on a soft and soothing melody, his attention came back to her. It was upbeat, but tentatively so. It was a lot like how Mac herself felt; a little scared to let herself feel happy. Jonathan enjoyed watching her play. Her fingers worked their magic on the guitar and it came to life. He found himself wishing those fingers were working on him.

He could definitely catch the meaning and significance of the words she chose to put with the new tune. He couldn't help but smile at the love he heard in her voice. When she actually began the final version of her song, she started out slow and melodic, and then began picking up the beat as she went.

"_Don't know much about your life,_

_Don't know much about your world, but_

_Don't want to be alone tonight,_

_On this planet they call Earth."_

She smiled a bit, knowing they weren't on Earth, but wanting to singing as if they were anyway.

"_You don't know about my past, and_

_I don't have a future figured out._

_And maybe this is going to fast._

_And maybe it's not meant to last…"_

"_But what do you say to taking chances,_

_What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing if there's solid ground below_

_Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay."_

_What do you say,_

_What do you say?"_

She picked up the tempo here and her voice was full of emotion. The song became jazzier, more rock 'n roll sounding.

"_I just want to start again,_

_And maybe you could show me how to try,_

_And maybe you could take me in,_

_Somewhere underneath your skin?_

"_What do you say to taking chances,_

_What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing if there's solid ground below,_

_Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay,_

_What do you say,_

_What do you say?"_

She went into a bridge with gusto, letting the romantic in her free.

"_And I had my heart beaten down,_

_But I always come back for more, yeah._

_There's nothing like love to pull you up,_

_When you're laying down on the floor there._

_"So talk to me, talk to me,_

_Like lovers do._

_Yeah walk with me, walk with me,_

_Like lovers do,_

_Like lovers do._

_"What do you say to taking chances,_

_What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing if there's solid ground below,_

_Or a hand to hold, or help to pay,_

_What do you say,_

_What do you say?"_

She slowed just a bit and drew out the words strong and clear. Then she came to a close, going back to the slower, more soothing beginning.

"_Don't know much about you life_

_And I don't know much about your world…."__2_

Mac looked at her Jonathan when she had finished. "So?" she asked.

"That was incredible," he said, his voice hoarse all of a sudden. Mac had nailed their situation perfectly in her song. It left him breathless and wanting to take the chance of loving her. He was ready to jump off the edge into whatever abyss was below.

"I'm glad you approve, Captain Archer," she was teasing him now.

"What happened to Jonathan?" he asked, feigning concern.

"I thought I'd be a little more formal with you from now on," Mac continued to tease him.

"You had better not," he said as he pulled the guitar out of her hands and placed it to the side of the loveseat. "Especially if we continue to get to know each other better."

Mac, anticipating his actions, rose off the loveseat and away from him, still egging him on with her tease. "How well do you want to get to know me, Captain?"

He grinned at her, and she could see the desire burning in his eyes. She was sure it was mirrored in her own. She wanted him.

Finally, he stood, strode over to her, grabbed her, and his arms wrapped swiftly around her. His mouth found hers again. This time the passion flared high and hot. Mac pressed herself into his embrace and let her arms slide up his bare back. They kissed fervently for a while and then came up for air, but Jonathan traced his lips down Mac's neck and throat to her collarbones. He wantonly pushed her backwards until she hit the balcony door back into the bedroom. He captured her mouth hungrily again. He was not going to hold back anything this time. They had started this dance, one too many times without finishing it. They would finish this time; he would make sure of that.

Porthos tried to come along back into the bedroom with the impassioned couple, but Archer had enough forethought and sense to close the door on him. This action left Porthos standing outside on the balcony alone. Jonathan didn't want the dog interrupting them again. His hands roamed Mac's body as he guided them towards the bed. Mac moaned with pleasure and her hands explored his body as well. She next felt herself fall down on to the downy softness of the bed. She kissed his mouth again; the desire for him burning through her.

"You need to be more careful about your sensory memories," he mumbled as he kissed down her throat again.

"What?" she breathed, "I wasn't touching you the last time I had one."

"Well, I sure had a nice dream while you were experiencing it," he told her huskily.

"We must be psychically connected some how," she said as she flipped them over and kissed him leisurely down his throat.

"It appears so," he said, his skin tingling under her touch.

Mac pulled at the ties on the canopy's big curtains and they dropped into place. Jonathan looked at her questioningly. "I like my privacy and I don't want to have any interference this time. You aren't getting away from me again."

"We really must be on the same wavelength, because I locked the bedroom door before I came out on the balcony," Jonathan said, his voice thick with want. He was craving and yearning for each of her caresses.

His princess smiled wickedly, then leaned down and kissed him heatedly on the mouth again, shutting him up. After a few more minutes, both of them were lost in the pleasure and enjoyment of each other and nothing else mattered.

Later, as they lay recovering from their vigorous activity, Mac felt very fulfilled. Jonathan was hers at last. He was a nicely attentive lover and not like Khan at all. Oh sure, Khan attended to her needs from time to time, when he wanted to seduce her into doing some dastardly deed for him, or to keep her from straying from him, but he had always been in the intimate moment for himself. He ravished her, but not because he loved her.

Jonathan had actually made love to her, and she to him. It was like they knew exactly what the other needed and wanted. She now understood how a man and woman could become one. It wasn't just about the biological physicalness of the intimate act, but it was also about a spiritual connection. Mac felt her soul touch Jonathan's and she had never experienced anything like it before. She realized that two out of the three predatory animals that helped make up her genome mated for life, the wolf and the hawk. She hoped her mating with Jonathan could be that permanent.

Now she allowed her hand to make leisurely circles across his chest and abdomen. She loved the feel of his chest hair through her fingers. His sleeping form sighed and he shifted closer to her. Mac increased her motions. Jonathan's greenish eyes fluttered open to meet her dark brown ones. "If you keep doing that, you are going to be in big trouble," he warned her, already full of fiery need for her again.

"Maybe I like being in trouble," she flirted, her voice soft and seductive. She then replaced her hand with her mouth on his chest, down his rib cage and stomach.

"All right, I warned you, Mac," he said and he was on her in an instant. She welcomed him warmly, and the whole process started over again.

TBC

**Whatda think? Please let me know!! Thanks!!**

1 "Moments Like This" performed by Alison Krauss and Union Station. Using the words written by Michael McDonald and music by Victor Krauss in my story is not meant as a copyright infringement. I just thought the words were a perfect fit to the mood of the story. Full credit goes to the rights of Rounder Records, 1996.

2 This song comes from Celine Dion's album _Taking Chances_ and the song itself is called "Taking Chances". It was written by Kara DioGuradi and David A. Stewart. No copy right infringement is meant by its use. It just fit my story so well. Full credit goes to Columbia Epic records, 2007.


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plain old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: In this chapter an old nemesis of Archer's makes and appearance and a little more is revealed about Future Guy's interest in Mac and the Captain. This chapter was originally one very long chapter. LadyRainbow in her infinite wisdom had me divide it in two and add another chapter in the middle of them. So, chapters 18 and 19 will follow shortly. They are in the process of being betaed. There is a little bit of violence in this chapter, so be warned; it's still rated T. Please read and review. I really would like to know what my readers think about this story. Thanks and enjoy!**

**Chapter 17**

Archer awoke first this time, as the sunlight started to stream into the bedroom. The thick privacy curtains blocked out most of the unwelcome light, but Jonathan could tell it was early morning. He felt better than he had in days; his fever was gone, his constant headache was gone, and he was calm and very content. He wondered if Phlox scanned him right now whether or not his bodily systems would register back in balance.

His gaze drifted down to Mac curled up in his arms; her soft, warm body snuggled up into his. God, she was amazing, and she was his. How he had lucked out to be in bed with such a gorgeous and wondrous woman, he'd never know. He kissed the top of her head gently, breathing in her sweet scent, and Mac snuggled deeper into him. He couldn't help but smile. He enjoyed a few moments of just feeling her next to him, thinking that he had gotten his princess after all.

Mac stirred again, woke, and then sheepishly smiled at him. "Hey, handsome," she said with a yawn.

"Hey," he replied. "You sleep well?"

"When I slept," her smile turned sly as she spoke. Archer laughed at her comment. They had gotten each other into "big trouble" several more times during the night.

Jonathan had almost forgotten how nice it was to be with a woman. It had been a long while since he'd had intimate relationship. Captain Hernandez, of the starship_ Columbia_,had been his last meaningful relationship, but she was off on her own adventures now. Archer wasn't going to count the time with the Orion slave girl. That had been a near disaster; she had messed with his hormones and emotions so badly that he almost handed his ship and crew over to her and her sisters. It had been a titillating experience, but nothing of any substance. Mac had been totally different, even though she was supposed to be tripping out his hormones too. He sensed a deeper connection with her than just a great roll in the hay, and he felt he was really part of her now. It was a hard feeling to define. If felt like she knew him better than he knew himself.

"I have to say that I didn't mind losing any sleep," he told her.

"No complaints here either," she kissed his lips lightly. "I hate to spoil a nice and placid moment, Jonathan, but could you tell me about who attacked you a few days ago. Who are they and why 'd they do it?"

Archer hesitated. He tried to think of a way to explain all about the Suliban and the Temporal Cold War in a Cliff Notes version, and it wasn't easy.

As Mac waited for his response, she caught a familiar, yet dangerous scent. It was the sickly-sweet, burnt sugar smell coming back to haunt her. The scent put her on edge because it was now associated with the very assailants that she was questioning Jonathan about.

"What's wrong, Mac?" he asked as he felt her tense up.

Mac nuzzled her lips close to his ear and her voice was barely a whisper. "I think we have company. Don't say anything. Just listen." When she was sure he would comply, she continued, "I smell that same sickly-sweet, burnt sugar scent that I have smelled before. I smelled it from my balcony at the time you were being assaulted. Get up and get some clothing on. I'm going to grab something too and pretend to go to the bathroom. Just act like nothing's wrong."

Archer nodded his response. So much for peace and quiet. Why would the Suliban still be here? It frightened him.

Mac slipped out of the bed, found one of her Jonathan's button-down shirts, and put it on. It was just big enough on her petite form to cover the essentials. She had no idea where her peach nightgown had ended up. "I'll be right back, Jonathan. Nature's calling and I need to answer it," she said with more volume and pretended to head to the bathroom.

Jonathan slid out of the bed and found his pajama bottoms and put them on. He pretended that he was going to check on Porthos. He opened the balcony doors and the scent became stronger to Mac's nose. Whatever it was, it was right outside. From her hidden position around the corner by the bathroom, she engaged her zooming capability, her eyes dilating strangely. The super soldier scanned the entire balcony. She could see nothing. She waited patiently for any movement that would give her prey away and listened intently for any out of place sound.

Then she saw it, just a faint glimmer. She knew she had seen the outline of a person perched on the balcony railing. When she focused just right, the glimmer stood out with more definition. It reminded her of the heat waves one could see rising off a hot asphalt road in the middle of summer. It didn't quite fit in with its surroundings; it was a slight distortion. Her advanced hearing also uncovered an unidentifiable heartbeat. She watched as the outline jumped down from the balcony railing and silently approached Archer, who was pretending to play with the beagle. Mac didn't like the creature's movements toward her mate. The beast within came to life, but not overwhelmingly so; just enough to aid her in what she knew she had to do, protect Jonathan.

With blinding speed she rushed the outline she had made out. She felt her body smash into something solid. The almost invisible form grunted as she slammed it to the ground and she heard something clatter, as if the being had dropped something. She guessed where its face would be and knuckle punched it. Mac heard another grunt and the figure became uncamouflaged. Mac was not prepared for what she saw; a lanky, lime green alien with bumps all over its skin. Its eyes were a strange yellow color. It had no hair on its head, just the weird bumps. It used her moment's hesitation against her and kicked her off itself. She flew across the balcony into one of the crystalline tables.

This strange alien was strong, but not as strong as the transgenic super soldier. As it rushed at her, thinking her dazed, she kicked out with the ball of her foot right to what she hoped was the alien's groin area. She knew she had hit home when the alien yelped in pain and backed away from her. Mac was on her feet lighting fast and tackled the alien to the ground again. She shoved a fist into its rib cage and smacked its head against the ground. The force she used was not to kill, but to disable. She wanted to know what this thing was. As the alien lay stunned by her attack, she straddled it and pinned its arms with her legs and thighs. Archer couldn't help but have a feeling of déjà vu. He was about to warn Mac that the Suliban could restructure their skeletons at will and stretch unnaturally to slip a captor's grasp.

He was too late, she found out the hard way. The alien morphed and pulled itself like rubber, and slid right out of her tight leg lock. It struck Mac with an elbow to her lower back. The blow forced her to the ground, and Archer swore he heard bone snap. As the alien now stood above the wounded Mac, Jonathan finally got a good look at him. He blanched as he recognized the Suliban. It was Silik. But it couldn't be; Archer had watched the Suliban warrior die two hundred years ago in Earth's past. How was he here now fighting with Mac?

The Suliban met the Archer's gaze, "Nice to see you again, Jon," he said with a smug, arrogant, and deep voice.

"Silik?" was all Archer was able to say.

"Of course," Silik answered smoothly. "Who else would it be lurking around your door?" He smiled like the Big Bad Wolf.

"How are you alive?" the Captain asked, still in deep shock. "I saw you die."

"Yes, you did," Silik was taunting Jonathan now. "I did make a noble sacrifice on your behalf, but when you stopped Vosk and reset the timeline a funny thing happened; I got my life back. So, I guess I should thank you, Jon."

Archer wanted to launch himself at Silik and finish what Mac had started, but he needed to know why Silik was here. The primal rage he had felt earlier was back and it was starting to build rather quickly. The Suliban had tried to kill him and his crewmates!

"Why did your people attack us? We have no quarrel with them anymore," he said trying to control himself. He looked at Mac's still motionless form with deep worry and another flash of rage.

"Oh, don't worry about your little friend," Silik continued to speak smugly. "I only broke a couple of her vertebras. She should be as good as new in just a few minutes."

"You didn't answer my question, Silik." Archer let his voice become a growl.

Silik's smile was lecherous. "I had nothing to do with that incident. I was sent here to watch _you_."

This statement got Archer's full attention. "I knew you were the mercenary type Silik, but a Peeping Tom, too? I would've never guess that'd you sink so low."

Silik frowned for a moment trying to place Archer's human colloquialism. "I enjoyed the show, Jon," Silik said, the taunting back in his voice when he realized the context of the Captain's remark. "I keep learning new and fascinating things about your species. I didn't realize your species had such stamina or were so limber."

"You're a sick voyeur, Silik," the Captain's voice held a barely contained anger in it now. Fiery rage was flowing through him.

Silik just continued to smile, like the cat that ate the canary. "It seems I have hit a nerve my dear Captain. I hate to gloat and run, but I really must return and report."

Why in the hell would Silik, or his benefactor from the future, be interested in his sex life? This whole situation was making less and less sense. "You're not going anywhere until you answer my original question. Why did your people attack mine?" Archer demanded as he advanced on the Suliban.

"You can't stop me, Jon," Silik said with confidence. "Even if you had a weapon to use, you couldn't stop me." With that Silik went to jump off the balcony.

Mac rose and grabbed one of his arms and threw him into the wall of the palace. He hit with a dull thud. The transgenic then pulled at one of the vertical metal bars that made up the balcony's railing. Using her enhanced strength, she snapped it clean off.

"I'll stop you, you sick bastard," the Chimera, now loose and in control, roared at him. "See if your neat little elastic trick will work after this." Mac's eyes were wolfen once more and she leapt at Silik plunging the metal rod through his left shoulder. She did it with such force that it went through Silik's skin and muscle completely and planted itself in the solid face of the palace wall. The super soldier had literally impaled the Suliban to the stone that the palace was built out of. He screamed in pure agony as the rod pierced through him.

The Captain knew the Suliban's scream would attract the guards outside his bedroom. The door was still locked. It would take them a while to break it down and storm the room. Part of him was hoping for that to happen, but another part wanted to get the information he so desperately needed out of Silik first, without any interference. Jonathan was also trying to deal with what Mac had just done. His rage had been put on hold temporarily by her actions. Again part of him cheered her on, and another part of him was horrified. He decided to use the situation Mac had created to his advantage.

"It can get a lot worse, Silik," Archer's voice was very low with a touch of menace in it. "You might as well tell us what we want to know, or I can let my genetically engineered friend have her way with you. I can promise you it won't be pleasant."

Silik was trembling in pain. The metal bar through his shoulder was an all-consuming kaleidoscope of torture. Something akin to sweat beaded his forehead. His breath was ragged and short. There was no way he could squeeze himself out of this predicament. The Chimera heard Jonathan's words and smiled cruelly at Silik. She made ready to twist the metal deeper into the wound she had made. All it would take was Jonathan's go ahead.

"This is so unlike you, Jon," Silik hissed out.

"Let's just say I have changed over the last four and a half years," the Captain told him. "Now, I'll ask you once more, why did your people attack mine?"

Even in his anguish, Silik glared at Archer defiantly. He clamped his mouth shut and refused to answer. Jonathan glanced at the super soldier and nodded. The Chimera roughly grabbed the metal bar and pulled it from side to side inside Silik's shoulder. The flash of pain he felt was evident in Silik's second scream. His eyes rolled in his head up for a few seconds, and he almost passed out. The Chimera knew exactly how much to hurt him without letting him black out. "I could always give you a matching set," the Chimera threatened.

Silik looked into her inhuman eyes and felt real fear for the first time around this creature. He knew she would impale him with a second bar without hesitation. Archer was the only thing keeping her from doing it. The Suliban couldn't believe that Captain Jonathan Archer was condoning this torture. "I can't tell you anything," he whispered. "He would kill me."

"And you think I won't." This was a bluff on the Archer's part, he wouldn't go that far, but Silik didn't need to know that, and besides, it felt damn good to say it.

Silik stared at the Captain. He stared at the human super soldier. Nausea from the excruciating pain was beginning to make his stomach lurch. He knew he had to tell Archer something, but what and how much he was still figuring out. He was not alone out here. He could stall. "All I can tell you is that my men were ordered to attack your crew to help the timeline correct itself."

Jonathan hadn't been expecting that answer. He was thinking it was done to prevent an event that the Suliban's benefactor didn't want happening. He assumed that the Suliban were here to stop the _Enterprise_ and her crew from achieving some goal, or to stop them from interfering in the affairs of the Vorlorens. Archer was not expecting to hear that the Suliban were trying to fix something that had gone wrong.

"What?" was all he could think to say in response to Silik's statement.

Some of Silik's smugness came back by seeing the Captain's reaction. "My benefactor is trying to make sure certain key events actually do happen the way that history originally recorded them to have happened. There are other factions that don't want them to take place."

"And attacking my crew, myself, and spying on me is suppose to accomplish that?" Archer still couldn't believe this. "What in hell is supposed to happen here?"

Silik played his last card. "I won't know that until I report back to my benefactor. He will tell me if all was successful or not." He hoped his men were on their way.

"You're lying," the Chimera growled at him. "I can smell your deceit, hear it in your increased heart rate. You know exactly what's going on here. If you won't talk, then you might as well just die." She ripped another metal bar from the railing and went to thrust it through his heart.

Jonathan grabbed her wrist. "Don't, Chimera. He doesn't need to be killed. There is still much he can tell us." At first, Archer thought that the Chimera was going to lash out at him, but then her stance eased and she stopped resisting him. His touch on her wrist had sent a wave of calmness and tranquility over her. Her anger faded and Mac was once again in control of herself.

"As you wish, Jonathan," she whispered and dropped the metal bar to the ground. Silik watched this with amazement. Future Guy had been right about the effect that Archer had on this being. Now, that they had been intimate it seemed to be that much stronger. This new fact would be something else to report to his master.

Suddenly, the MACOs and the Vorloren guards burst into the room and out on to the balcony. As they did so, Silik's men took advantage of the confusion and knocked the Archer into Mac and freed their commander. They had been carefully watching for an opportunity to rescue Silik. They knew they had to be wary of the transgenic and her abilities. As Jonathan and Mac fell to the ground, Silik's men, unseen, took Silik and he too vanished from sight. The Vorlorens and the MACOs tried to go after them, but how can you chase something you can't see?

"Are you all right, sir?" Corporal Matthews asked Archer.

"I'm fine," the Captain told him as he untangled himself from Mac. "We're fine. Go get Lieutenant Reed and the rest of the senior staff together immediately. We have a big problem."

"Suliban?" the Corporal asked.

"No doubt about it," Archer replied, then added to the Vorlorens, "You might want to get Chief Suran to join us."

The older Vorloren that had procured the guitar for Mac responded. "Yes, Captain Archer, I think that is an excellent idea." With that said the guards fanned out, some sweeping the area for any trace of the Suliban, and the others going to alert the rest of the palace to the latest situation. Mac was herself again; the Chimera's influence was gone. Archer's anger had faded too.

Jonathan realized that Porthos was nowhere to be seen. The Suliban wouldn't have taken his dog, surely? He looked around frantically for the beloved animal. It was Mac that found him hiding out under one of the crystalline tables. He had huddled into the farthest corner he could find. He was certainly no attack dog. As Mac coaxed him out, her hand brushed the object she remembered hearing drop from the alien when she tackled him.

She studied it for a moment. It looked like a set of binoculars, a very advanced set of binoculars. After she handed the trembling dog to the Jonathan, she examined the technology further. The zooming capability was startling. Mac could see the veins in the leaves hundreds of meters away with them. It appeared that the binoculars also doubled as a digital recording device. Mac had the sinking feeling she knew what a playback of the recording would show. Sure enough, Silik had actually taped Mac and Jonathan together. The device seemed to be able to see right through the privacy curtain around the bed. The stunned woman quickly shut it off. Why in the hell would some alien record her and Jonathan making love? It was very sick and very twisted in Mac's opinion.

"What do you have there?" Archer's voice made her jump. Porthos was still in his arms, but he was happily licking Jonathan's cheek, obviously relieved to be safe and sound again.

"Your pal, Silik, filmed us," she said bluntly.

"What?" Jonathan was appalled.

"He not only watched us, but recorded it for all posterity to see," Mac said with disgust in her voice.

Archer was totally confused now. "I don't get it. Why are the Suliban suddenly interested in human mating practices?"

"You tell me, Jonathan," Mac said angrily. "You're the one who has a history with the aliens. It seems you're even on a first name basis with them."

Archer sensed her frustration. He hadn't really told her anything of current situation yet. He had meant to, but he had let her distract him. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was keeping him from uncovering whatever plot was going on here.

"It has to have something to do with you, Mac," Jonathan said starting to put a few pieces together. "It's not me that they are interested in, it's you. They've had help in experimenting with genetic enhancements and engineering. They must want to know more about you and your design."

Mac still felt like she was in the dark about who these aliens were. "So, why watch me mate? Or should I say watch us mate? It seems to me that Silik was just as interested in you as he was me."

"That, I don't know," Jonathan said honestly. "When we meet with everyone, I'll fully explain all about the Suliban and about a man from the future that uses them to mess with the past to make it fit his liking. Maybe then we can figure out what their possible motives could be."

Now it was Mac's turn to be stunned. "They take orders from some guy in the future. How is that possible?"

"Good question," Archer said. "Technology obviously advances enough to not only travel in space, but in time too." He could tell that Mac was flabbergasted about the whole idea of time travel. He was still trying to come to grips with it himself "There are many factions in the future that my crew and I have run into in our travels. They all have their own agenda about how they want to change the past to benefit themselves in the future. Some factions seem like they are trying to do the right thing and others are really trying to screw things up. It's been called the Temporal Cold War. Silik's master is not far enough in the future to have the technology to actually travel into the past, but he can project an image of himself and give the Suliban orders on what he wants done. We are not sure what his real motivations are. He has both hindered us and helped us. He was the one who first alerted us to the Xindi threat and helped us locate them."

Mac didn't know what to say. This was all very new to her. She was used to intrigue and megalomaniacs trying to take over the world, but ones that wanted to dominant time as well, that was mind blowing. "And your goal is to find out what part one or more of these factions are playing in the Vorlorens' civil war?" she asked.

Jonathan had to give Mac credit for being able to figure things out, when he had been less than forthcoming with her. "Exactly," he replied. "We had no idea that we would find you out here, however," he added.

"Do you think Silik's master did?" Mac now asked. She was beginning to get a very uneasy feeling about the situation.

Archer paused for a moment absorbing all the implications that Mac's question had. Did Future Guy plan this whole affair? Had he leaked just enough information to get Starfleet and _Enterprise _involved directly on purpose? Had he had a hand in the Vorlorens' discovery of Mac? Was there actually a threat to the newly formed alliances Earth was forming, or was that just a rouse? Could both cases be true; there was a threat and Future Guy wanted _Enterprise _involved?

"I wouldn't put it past the bastard," he finally said.

"So the question now is what is the purpose of all this?" Mac again stated just what Archer had been thinking.

"That is the sixty-four thousand dollar question," Archer said. Mac couldn't help a small smile at Jonathan's use of an old Earth saying. "I am sorry you have to be pulled into the middle of all this," he told her.

"It'll give me a chance to be useful," she said as she stepped closer to him. "I wanna help."

Mac's closeness reminded Jonathan that she was only wearing one of his shirts. It covered her, but left her looking very alluring. He shifted Porthos to one side, holding him with one arm. The other slid around her waist and pulled her closer. Their lips met in a hungry and deep kiss, Archer's passion almost overwhelming them both. After what seemed like an eternity, the clearing of someone's throat made them part. Jonathan glanced over to the doorway out onto the balcony and saw Malcolm standing there with a smirk on his face.

The Lieutenant had taken in the luscious form of the transgenic in only Archer's shirt and couldn't help but envy the Captain's luck. The woman was almost glowing in her radiance; he liked what he saw. It was also nice to see that the Captain appreciated a beautiful woman too. He was always so restrained around his crew and senior staff. It was good to see he had needs just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir," Reed began, "but the senior staff is ready and waiting in the parlor." Reed was also relieved to see that both the Captain and stunning woman were unharmed. He had been cursing the MACOs and the Vorlorens for their lack of protection yet again. Malcolm had been keeping his distance from the Mac, but after what Mac had done for Trip, Reed no longer feared her. She was unpredictable, but she was truly on their side. The tactical officer realized that Mac could be a real asset to them now. He would put aside his feelings of being uncomfortable around her and do his job.

"I'll go get changed," Mac said blushing furiously red. She pulled away from her Jonathan and ran into the bedroom, not looking at Malcolm as she passed him.

"I had better get dressed too," Archer said, also a bright shade of red. "We'll be right along." Reed only chuckled as the Captain practically threw Porthos into the Lieutenant's arms and rushed passed him as well to hurry to get dressed in some proper clothes.

TBC

**Once more with feeling, please, pretty please, leave a review!! :)**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Sorry to take so long to update. I hope people are still interested. My beta reader was under the weather for a short time, and I experienced a family tragedy that I'm still recovering from. Anyway, this chapter is part TnT and part essential plot elements. I just had to do something with TnT's relationship; you know get it back on track. I never liked where it went in the show. This chapter was also a good place to reveal some of the intrigue that is going on behind the **_**Enterprise **_**crew's backs; the plot thickens, in other words.**

**Thanks so much to LadyRainbow for her wonderful and inspired suggestion that I add this chapter into my story. She is the best!!**

**Please let me know what you think!! Read and review at your leisure!!**

**Chapter 18**

Trip was first aware of T'Pol's presence in his mind, through their bond, and then he opened his eyes and saw her sitting next to his bed. He was vaguely aware of spending time in a place a lot like Sickbay aboard _Enterprise_, but now he was in a soft, cushy bed, wrapped in soothingly warm sheets and blankets. The pillow his head was resting on was nice and downy. He liked it there. He somehow knew that T'Pol had never left his side; she had been with him the whole time he had been recovering. How long had that been?

T'Pol was sitting Indian-style, legs folded underneath her, on a high-backed, wooden chair, meditating. She wasn't using her usual mediation candle, however. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was slow and steady, and her posture was relaxed. She looked serene, but Trip could feel her battle with her emotions going on inside of her. She was trying to suppress them and failing.

"Hey there," he croaked out to get her attention. His throat felt dry and parched as he tried to remember all that had happened to bring him here.

T'Pol's eyes snapped open and instantly met his at the sound of his voice. "It is agreeable to see you become conscious," she told him in her very Vulcan way. She shifted to sit normally in the chair.

Even though Trip felt groggy and a little sluggish, he managed one of his boyish grins. "Thanks," he replied. "It's good to see you too. How long have I been out?"

"It has been three Quantima days," T'Pol stated. "Do you remember what happened to you?" Trip could almost taste the relief and joy flowing through T'Pol at his recovery. That thought warmed him through and through. She really did love him, even if she couldn't say the words.

"Yeah," Trip's voice was gruff. "The Suliban came out of nowhere and knifed us. I thought I was gonna to die, T'Pol. I was cut pretty bad. What kinda miracle did Dr. Phlox come up with to help me?"

"We_ all _thought you were going to expire," T'Pol's voice cracked just a bit. Suddenly one of her hands found one of Trip's. Her grip was fierce, but her face showed nothing. She was fighting not to let her hands shake, giving away that her emotions were right on the surface; she wanted to act Vulcan about all of this. Trip's skin was cool to the touch, but it was getting warmer and his face wasn't as pale as it had been, although he still looked sickly.

"T'Pol, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Trip asked in concern as he felt her shaking. "You're shakin' like a leaf." At his mention of this, T'Pol forced herself to go still. "Are the Cap'n and Malcolm okay?"

"Their wounds were more superficial than yours, easier to repair. Your injuries were nearly fatal," she managed to say calmly, "in fact, they should have led to your death. You had lost more than fifty percent of your blood volume."

Now Trip started to understand T'Pol's agitated state. "I _did_ almost die, didn't I? Why didn't I? How did Phlox save my life?"

"He didn't," T'Pol said and then paused, struggling to control the strong emotions surging within her. She kept hearing Mac's words to her about letting the transgenic give T'Pol a life with Trip. It shook her to her Vulcan roots, but T'Pol wanted that life with Trip more than she had ever thought possible. She wanted to have a "Lorian" or an "Elizabeth" to share with him. "McKenna did," T'Pol finally went on. "She voluntarily gave you over fifty percent of her blood volume through a transfusion. If not for her unselfish act, you would not have survived."

"Mac did what!?" he exclaimed, and he started to choke.

T'Pol quickly and gracefully retrieved a cup of water from a nightstand by the bed and let him sip it through a straw. It felt nice and smooth on his dry throat. Then she said, "McKenna logically deduced that her O negative blood with its unique healing properties could replenish your blood supply. What she donated seems to not only have kept you from dying, but it is allowing you to recover at an astonishing rate."

Trip couldn't believe it. Mac had risked her own life to save his. She had just met him, just started to befriend him. She thought herself a vile and evil demon because of the animalistic side of her, but she was an angel; his angel. She had saved his life. Tears came into Trip's eyes and ran down his cheeks. She was truly a good woman because she willing gave of herself for him without getting anything in return. Evil would never contemplate doing something like that. He knew Mac was innately good, and now, she had proven it.

"Is Mac okay?" he finally managed to ask T'Pol. He met her eyes and saw a faint glimmer of tears there too. Deep worry lines creased his forehead as he took in T'Pol's reaction.

"She had to be resuscitated twice, but she has fully recovered from the procedure," T'Pol informed him with forced calmness.

"Remind me to give her a huge hug when I have the strength to do it," Trip instructed.

"I will do so," T'Pol said. Trip could see in his mind her fear and worry about him, as if he were experiencing it himself, but he could also see her joy that was slowly replacing them. Then her thoughts of love hit him; her Vulcan training couldn't hold them back.

She had been terrified to lose him.

"I love you too, T'Pol," he suddenly blurted out. "I have for a long time now." He had to get this out in the open, now. This was something like his third or fourth chance at life. He needed to stop beating around the bush and take his chance with T'Pol. He might not get one later.

She flinched at his tender words. "I never said that," she whispered.

"But you sure are thinkin' about it," Trip confronted her. "Our bond, remember. You can't hide away from me anymore. You love me T'Pol, just admit it. You'll feel better if you do. I truly do love you."

T'Pol tried to pull her hand away, but Trip held on tight, even in his weakened condition. He had to get through to her this time. Vulcans were touch telepaths; they could catch glimpses of someone else's thoughts by touching them. With Trip and T'Pol's bond, it only increased its strength when they touched each other. Trip wanted T'Pol to see his thoughts too, so she'd know he was speaking the truth.

"Trip, please," she pleaded. She did not like where the conservation was headed. She was going to have to face the truth; that she, a logical and reasonable Vulcan, loved a human. It seemed to her that the more she fought against the truth, that she cared so deeply for Trip, the worse her emotional turmoil became. Perhaps accepting the truth would allow her the emotional control and tranquility she so longed for.

"Just admit it, T'Pol. You care for me; a silly, emotional, and illogical human," Trip said, almost mirroring her thoughts. He told her he'd wait for her to make up her mind, but almost dying, once again, made him decide he was done waiting. He wasn't letting her off the hook.

He watched as T'Pol warred with herself, all her Vulcan discipline with all her deep-seeded emotion. Her face took on a green flush and her bronze-like skin seemed to glow. "Yes," she finally spoke, "I do love you, Trip. I am yours and always have been. Our hearts are one." Using some of her Vulcan heritage about bonding helped her speak the truth.

She really couldn't deny it anymore. If Trip had died, a part of her would have too. She cared about his well-being above her own, and she was uncomfortable when he wasn't near. He brought her a strange and ironical sense of peace by just being in the same room with her. She would feel so very lost without his presence. She needed him, she suddenly realized; he somehow completed her. A bonding could not truly take place unless there was sincerity on both sides; with Trip and T'Pol the sincerity was most definitely there.

Trip felt like he was going to burst into a hundred pieces. T'Pol had finally come out and said what he had been waiting over a year to hear. "See that wasn't so hard now was it?" he teased.

"Actually, it is the most difficult task I've ever had to complete," she came back at him with. "I am not sure what course of action to take next." They were bondmates, but how did they go about acting like it, serving on a starship together?

"Well," Trip said trying to sit up a little; he felt slight dizzy, "we just take things one step at a time. We're good friends and colleagues who care deeply for one another. Let's just spend time together, really gettin' to know one another, share each others interests and stuff like that. I wouldn't mind studyin' the Kir'Shara with you, for instance. It might be good for me. I'm not askin' ya to marry me, T'Pol, at least not yet anyway. I just want to be with ya," he couldn't help but add.

"I might find that proposal acceptable," T'Pol said slowly. "Most of the time your company is agreeable. It would be educational to share some of your interests with you. You might even be able to help me overcome my illogical aversion to water, if I was to learn how to scuba dive."

Trip couldn't believe his ears. It was like a wall was suddenly gone. It was a shame that it took a near death experience to kick their relationship up a notch, but he was damn glad that it had. "I'll teach ya anythin' ya want to know, sweetheart," he told her. "And I'm willin' to be taught anythin' by you too."

T'Pol stood and leaned over him, her lips brushed his forehead and then his lips. "Just promise me, one thing, Trip," she said afterward. She allowed their foreheads to rest against each other.

"You name it," he replied with a contented smile.

"Don't ever leave me alone," she whispered close to his ear.

"You got it, T'Pol," he answered her. "I'll never leave you alone."

A gentle knock on the bedroom door broke up their tender moment, but both of them felt better than they had in months. Lieutenant Reed poked his head in the door. "Sorry to disturb you," he said apologetically, "but the Captain just found Silik outside his balcony door. The Captain's fine," he hurriedly said when saw the worry on Trip face and the scowl on T'Pol's. "So is Mac. The Captain wants all of the senior staff to assemble in the palace parlor room. Is Commander Tucker up to coming, or is he still recuperating?"

"He is still weak, but it might do him good to get up and around," T'Pol responded.

"Yeah, Mal," Trip spoke up too. "I think I wanna come. I'll see what Phlox says and then try and join ya."

"Sounds good," Malcolm said. "I'll let the Captain know. See you two in a few minutes. And, Trip," Reed said suddenly turning soft, "I'm glad that you're all right."

"Me too buddy, me too," was Trip's reply. "I'm sure glad to see that you're in good shape."

"Phlox had a lot to do with that, and the fact that I wasn't the bloody target," Reed told him. "It seems you were, at least, I'm guessing you were based on the extent of your injuries."

"I didn't realize I had pissed the Suliban off that badly," Trip tried to joke. He didn't like thinking about almost dying anymore.

"Yeah, well you do tend to have that effect on some people, Commander," Malcolm returned the joke with one of his classic smirks.

"Thanks Lieutenant, thanks a lot," Trip pretended to be annoyed, but he couldn't stop the chuckle that slipped out. It didn't take Reed long to join him, leaving T'Pol just to shake her head at them.

* * *

"You've gone too far this time!" Romdel all but roared at the shadowy figure on the raised platform in the middle of the holographic chamber. "We could have lost the transgenic!"

"Are you finished, Director?" Future Guy's voice was smooth, but held a thinly veiled threatening note in it.

"Not nearly," Romdel hissed, seething. "I've done everything you've asked of me for years now. I've followed your instructions to the letter. I make one small miscalculation to help my people, and you almost destroy everything I've worked for!" Romdel spoke with strong indignation.

Future Guy folded his arms in front of his shadowy form. "That one small miscalculation could have destroyed everything_ I've_ worked for. Its repercussions could have devastated the timeline. We had a deal and you failed to hold up your end, Director. I'm trying to save my people too. I'm changing events with precise measures. Those measures have exact parameters that if exceeded, like your stupid little stunt did, can change things too much the wrong way."

"But why would you try and kill the humans, especially Commander Tucker? What good would that do you?" Romdel asked angrily.

"You saw the results," was all Future Guy offered as an explanation.

"Of course I saw the results!" Romdel cried. "The human super soldier stepped forward to save him, almost dying herself in the process. That would have set us back for decades. We need her alive and breathing to accomplish our goals."

Future Guy's voice became snide. "You're such a despicable hypocrite, Romdel. You risked her life; put her and Archer in jeopardy by having your men attack them to test her abilities. She could have been killed then and you'd have had decades of work ahead of you because of that."

"Then why would you risk her life again, if you need her and Archer so badly?" Romdel demanded. His top lip was twitching, causing his white, oversized moustache to quiver.

"You can answer that question yourself, Director," Future Guy told him condescendingly. "Use that mush you have in your skull. Why did you feel it was acceptable to order the attack on McKenna?"

Romdel paused in his next rant against his untrustworthy benefactor. The question struck a cord deep within the Vorloren. "Because I was extremely confident she would survive and come out victorious," he said.

"Exactly," Future Guy put forth smugly. "I, too, knew she would survive her blood donation; that her unique healing ability would save her."

Romdel lost some of his vim and vigor. Future Guy had a point, taking a little bit of the fight out of the Vorloren. He soon came up with another topic to be angry about. "Why are you holding out on my people? You mentioned nothing of this unique healing ability of the transgenic's before. It is something our initial scans of her DNA failed to register. We got a small taste of it when she survived the concussion grenade, but we didn't know it was so extensive. You said you'd help us improve ourselves and help us defeat our enemies. From the other operatives you've used, it seems you already have quite a lot of knowledge dealing with genetic engineering. You appear to have the means to give us so much more, and yet you don't? Why are your other operatives getting more than we are? My people have been loyal to you."

"To make sure your own purposes are accomplished. Your loyalty ends as soon as your own ambitions become more important," Future Guy commented. He was almost laughing at how ridiculous Romdel sounded. The Vorloren was one hundred times more devious and backstabbing than Future Guy would ever be, and the Director was accusing Future Guy of doing exactly what Romdel was doing to him. They were both holding back from each other; using each other for their own ends. The Suliban were simply a better and more dependable species. They had come to him for help, saying they would do anything if he would help them evolve and become a superior race.

"Isn't that why we formed our partnership?" Romdel threw back at Future Guy. "So we could both get what we want?"

The future being unfolded his arms, one had raised to his chin to stroke it in a thoughtful gesture. The other hand hung at his side. "This is true, but perhaps I didn't make myself clear to you before, Romdel. _My _needs far outweigh _yours_. I will hold fast to my promises to you. I will aid you in defeating your enemies."

"There is a but coming, isn't there?" Romdel interrupted.

"_But_, only after _I'm_ satisfied that _my_ needs are met. I do have the power to grant your wishes, but not until _I _have what _I _want," Future Guy's tone was like cold, hard steel.

"Aren't you getting what you want?" Romdel couldn't help but gulp at the raw strength in the future being's voice.

"It's close," Future Guy answered. "Archer and McKenna are moving in the right direction. They are almost where I want them, but the task is not quite complete yet. Patience is a virtue for both of us. Continue to follow my direction and instruction and you will get what you want."

"And if I don't?" Romdel couldn't help but ask.

"Then I wouldn't want to be you," Future Guy said full of dangerous threat. "I can wipe you and your people out before they even existed if you fail me."

Romdel felt himself shiver; that did not sound good.

"My operatives are still out there watching you. They will let me know if you do fail me," Future Guy finished. With that said, he faded totally from sight. The chamber was empty and hollow then. Romdel's resentment had been fueled a new.

"I told you he would only make excuses and look out for himself," Hister said as he stepped out of his place of concealment.

"I'm glad I listened to you, Brother," Romdel praised his younger, half-brother. "Your backup plan was pure genius and apparently necessary after all."

"We will have our super soldier army, now and not later, we will crush the Lasitierians, and we will thwart the future being's designs," Hister spoke with true conviction. "This unique healing ability of the transgenic's is a timely bonus. She cannot only heal herself, but others as well. We need to find a way to duplicate it. I can think of one or two ways of accomplishing that task."

"And what would those be?" Romdel asked with great curiosity. Hister had always been the better scientist of the two.

Hister smiled at his older half-brother. "Both would require us to obtain a very special type of cellular sample from the transgenic; the eggs from her reproductive system." Hister's smile widened when Romdel gasped at his bold words, then he continued, "They are a much more viable and direct source of her exceptional DNA, and could be used to create a more advanced and new generation of our super soldiers to go beyond those that we have right now. Before we were working with her frozen DNA, but now she is alive and vibrant; we would have more success with our cloning process. This healing ability is something she could pass on to an embryo made from her DNA, or we could find a way to synthesize it ourselves."

Only Hister, Romdel, and a very few members of the Council of Elders knew how far they had come in completing their own super soldier army. The Vorlorens had gone much, much further than Future Guy, or the stupid humans would ever realize. All their army needed was a leader, someone to pull them all together and make them a cohesive fighting force; the transgenic was the leader the brothers wanted.

Romdel had to ask his half-brother another burning question. "Do you think that it was this future being's design to have the transgenic offer her blood to the human they call Tucker? Why would he put the humans in danger like that, especially when he seems to need them so badly?"

"Those are excellent questions, Milo, and not the easiest to answer," Hister said, stroking his dark beard absently. "He is supposedly looking back into the past from the future; he must have a reason behind all of his scheming, all of his efforts. He seems to want to nurture the transgenic's softer side.

"His main directive to you was to get her and Archer to mate. That was the whole reason to let the humans take up residency in the palace; it was a more romantic atmosphere," Hister said in a mocking tone. "Now they have; we've seen recorded prove of that from the cameras I had installed in all the rooms in the palace. This future being is trying to forge intimate connections between the humans; first with Archer, and now with Tucker, as she was willing to sacrifice her own life for his. This intimacy we cannot allow or afford to let happen. We need her to feel isolated and alone, not part of her own species. We must now go against the future being's orders and keep them apart, so she will be vulnerable to _our_ influence. She is the ultimate weapon to use against the Lasiterians."

Romdel was in total agreement with Hister. "The Lasiterians are ripe for slaughter; there are so few of them left. Victory over them is so close, but we have to strike soon, or the Lasiterians will be able to go into hiding. I don't want one of those filthy animals left alive. Once they are gone, this system will be ours, and then we can turn our attention to other star systems. I'm thinking of putting Earth's star system right on the top of that list. I don't like Archer; he's too honorable, too shrewd, and too much in our way."

"That is why we must exploit and draw out the transgenic's monstrous side, force her demon to come out. She has the training, skills, and experience that are invaluable to get our super soldier army up and running. She must lead our army, but only her primal side would ever consider doing that. All of the silly human morals and scruples are making her weak and need to be purged from her. We need her under _our_ control. If she were fully _ours_, mind and body, we could not fail."

"You've come up with a way to control her?" Romdel said, his voice turning hopeful and his eyes shining brightly.

"I believe that I have. Something similar to the mind control I'm using on the High Monarch, but much stronger," Hister told his older, half-brother. "Think of it, Milo; a creature as powerful as she is at the head of our super soldier army. She would exterminate our loathsome enemies completely and utterly, and she would do it for _us_."

Romdel loved that idea. They were through waiting, and they were going to take what they wanted. Hister also had no fear of Future Guy's threats. If the being truly had that kind of power, the power to wipe out their existence, then why did he need their help to achieve his goals now in this time and place?

"And don't worry about these 'operatives' of the being from the future, Milo. Once we unleash our army, not even he will be able to stop us," Hister added.

"What about the humans?" Romdel then asked of Hister.

"What about them?" Hister asked back. "They are weak and far too trusting. When the time is right we will blow their ship out of the sky, and kill their people here on Quantima."

"Agreed," Romdel said. "But what of their connection to the transgenic?"

"Once she is under our control, it won't matter, but until then we should do everything we can to put some distance between her and them," Hister said as a wicked grin spread across his translucent face. "After she is ours, it would be most pleasurable to let her kill off the humans when the time is right."

Romdel was again in awe of the diabolical way his brother thought. "Yes, indeed it will be," he said. "And we will have her start with Captain Jonathan Archer."

TBC

**What do you think about how I portrayed TnT? And the plot twist? Good or no? Let me know! Thanks!!**


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: This chapter originally came after Malcolm went to go assemble the senior staff with the Vorlorens to discuss the Suliban threat. LadyRainbow wisely had me add another chapter in between to give the story more depth and insight. She suggested I rewrite this chapter too, allowing all the senior staff to have their say. She also had me expand the scene between Mac and Trip. I think it all turned out pretty well. Let me know what you think. Please read and review!!**

**Chapter 19**

About an half an hour after Silik's unexpected appearance, all of _Enterprise's_ senior officers, Mac, Chief Suran, and Director Romdel (much to Archer's ire), were seated in the parlor room of the palace. Joining them, via viewing screens, were the two members of the Vorloren Council of Elders that Archer had talked to before; Kamen and Urasia. The Captain had donned one of his uniform jumpsuits to look more formal. Mac had contacted T'Pol, and the Vulcan woman had let Mac borrow one of her colorful uniform jumpsuits because Mac wanted to look more official as well. T'Pol was wearing a light blue one, whereas Mac had chosen a deep purple one. T'Pol had removed her rank indicator from the uniform to clearly show that Mac was not a Starfleet officer.

Jonathan couldn't help but eye Mac appreciatively in the tight fitting, purple uniform. Her skin seemed rosier, and it deepened the darkness of her brown eyes. Mac had also pulled her hair up into another fancy twist that made her look more serious and intelligent. He liked how the uniform hugged her curves and defined her hips. It was convenient that she and T'Pol were around the same size. She sat next to him on a large beige loveseat, her knee lightly touching his. She seemed to need the contact with him, and he needed it too.

Trip was seated next to T'Pol and Malcolm on a rusty tan colored couch, looking pale and tired, but was almost completely recovered from his near death experience. He wore a white T-shirt and gray sweat pants; getting into a uniform was too much of an effort for him right now, but at least the Denobulan doctor had cleared him to attend the meeting. Hoshi, Phlox, and Travis were all seated in comfortable single chairs placed strategically around the room. T'Pol had positioned herself very close to the chief engineer, but very subtly. She showed no outward indication of worry or concern for Trip, but inside was a different story altogether. Both of them were still thinking about their deep conversation and the next step in their relationship.

Trip had caught Mac up in a huge and brotherly hug, when he had first seen her come into the parlor, using most of the little energy he had to do so. It had been full of deep gratitude and genuine love. "Oh Mac, darlin'," he had whispered in her ear. "Thank you so much. Thanks for savin' my life. I can't believe you'd do that for little ol' me. Thank you, thank you," he had gushed. He couldn't stop saying thank you.

Mac had returned the hug, unsure at first, but then gave herself over to the warm and fuzzy feeling it gave her. "It was my pleasure, Trip. You're welcome, but it really wasn't that big of a deal," she had said accepting his thanks humbly. "I'm just glad that those who love you didn't have to lose you. It was the least I could do for people who have been caring enough to help me."

"Well, it _was_ a big deal ta me," Trip admonished her lightly. "You could've died savin' me, Mac. What you did was beyond courageous, beyond kind. You've given me a priceless gift. I'm forever in your debt little lady. You're my guardian angel, McKenna McKnight, and I'll always be grateful to ya."

They had clung to each other for another moment, both feeling the bitter sweetness of unconditional love and compassion. When Trip had finally pulled away from her, their eyes had met, and something special passed between them. A profound and powerful bond of friendship had formed and linked them together. Mac now understood what real love was. She loved Trip, not like she loved Jonathan, but with its own unique and equally powerful kind of love. She loved Trip as she had loved Victor McKnight, as she would love family. It seemed as if he felt the same way. He knew she had risked her life for his. There would always be a rare and distinctive connection between them. Jonathan was right; she had learned how to truly love someone.

"I should thank you, Trip," Mac had then whispered to him. "I now know how wonderful it feels to do something right, something good. It's warmed my soul and given me a sense of real peace. My demon, my beast, is being tamed by these incredible feelings. Doing good for no other reason than because it's good, it pushes the darkness away. I'm being able to control my dark side with these feelings better than any chemical or forced suppression has ever been able to. And I now know what it's like to be part of something greater than myself, to put others first. I'm the one who owes you a debt, Trip, not the other way around. I'm just glad I could help."

"You are somethin' else, Mac," Trip had replied. "I meant what I said. You will always be my angel."

Now as the meeting was about to begin, Trip caught Mac's eye and winked at her. Mac again felt like she was floating on air. He was alive because she had chosen to help him. It was the most glorious feeling Mac or the Chimera had ever felt. The only fear Mac had was that it wouldn't last. Well, she would just have to find more good things to do then, wouldn't she?

Director Romdel had arrived at the palace the day before. He said the High Monarch, because of the terrible attack on the Vorlorens' human guests, required his presence, even though Archer had told the Council he wouldn't deal with the Vorloren. Romdel was personally leading the investigation into how the attack could have happened, where the breach of security came from. Romdel had a pretty good idea who was behind it and why, but he wasn't going to share that fact with anyone here in the parlor. His investigation would be half-hearted at best, but he was extremely curious to learn more about the attackers for his own personal gain.

Romdel now watched as the Captain stood and addressed the group. "I want to thank our Vorloren hosts for letting us meet together like this and for all the work they are doing to try and track down those who attacked members of my crew and many of their own men," he paused as he paced back and forth in front of the group, including those on the viewing screens. "I also want to apologize for the pain and loss that they have suffered. I feel it's partly my fault. The Suliban are after us, not the Vorlorens."

"Captain Archer, there is no need to apologize. You had no idea that these Suliban would follow you here and cause problems," this came from Chief Suran. "It should be I, who apologizes to you, for not protecting you and your people better. I am still baffled as to how they got through all of our defenses. It shouldn't be possible."

Archer smiled weakly at the Vorloren security chief. He had to be careful just how much he told them about the Suliban. "The man who commands them has given them many genetic enhancements to make them better agents in his employ. He has extremely advanced technology and knowledge; far beyond anything my species knows about. We're not even sure who he is or why he takes the actions that he does."

The Captain decided to completely leave out the fact that their commander was from the future. One, the Vorlorens might think him mad, and two it was a key fact he could use later, if he needed to. "I think they somehow found out about Mac and want to gather intelligence on her. They may want to add her abilities to the ones they already possess." This was only part of the Captain's thinking on the matter. He knew there was more to it than that; his gut was telling him that, but what it was, it wasn't clear yet.

Romdel leaned forward in his high-backed chair, his attention fully on what Archer was talking about; this story sounded very familiar to him suddenly. "What kind of genetic enhancements do they have? Are they anything like our dear transgenic?" he asked, fishing for more information.

Was this mystery man Archer was talking about was the same one that was making deals with the Director? It sure sounded like it. The Captain hadn't said anything about the Suliban's commander being from the future, but what if? The future man had mentioned that he had other agents to do his bidding. Why couldn't these Suliban be those agents?

The Captain of the _Enterprise_ didn't seem to like the questions, at least in Romdel's assessment of the human's body language and facial expression. The human turned to Dr. Phlox to answer the Director's pointed questions.

"Yes and no," Phlox said hesitantly.

He didn't know how much he should say. Lieutenant Reed had been adamant about being careful with how much information they let out about their encounters with the Suliban, but Phlox wanted to warn and prepare the Vorlorens about the Suliban in case of another attack.

"Mac is a unique creation all her own, but the Suliban do have enhancements to their eyesight, respiratory system, skeletal structure, and skin. This means they can see in the dark very well, breathe in a variety of different atmospheres, stretch their muscles and bones like rubber to slip under doorframes or through tight ventilation shafts, and they can camouflage themselves to become almost invisible." Most of what he told them was self-evident. Phlox looked to Reed, who nodded his approval. Phlox had concentrated on just the Suliban and left out any comparison to Mac.

"And don't forget that they can shape shift into other people to disguise themselves." This came from Trip, who had had the honor of being impersonated by Silik at one time.

"I can't do any of those things," Mac spoke up. "Their genetic enhancements are way beyond mine."

Romdel looked over at her and smiled. It was almost a leer; at least that was how Mac viewed it. Something about Romdel rubbed Mac the wrong way. Something about him just didn't feel right to her. "But, from what my men told me, you were able to detect the Suliban and get the better of him. I would say that you are way beyond them."

Archer watched Chief Suran bristle when Romdel called the Chief's men, his men. Malcolm didn't miss the change in body language either. He, as a security chief himself, knew how it felt to have some threaten their authority over their men. Malcolm had been like that with Major Hayes, to a lesser degree.

Jonathan also didn't like the way Romdel was eyeing his Mac. The look was almost predatory. Something primal in Archer stirred to life. It was a subtle stirring, but there nonetheless, and it wanted to rip Romdel's throat out.

"I guess they can't totally hide their scent. I could smell them," Mac explained and went into more detail about both the recent incident on the balcony and the incident when she first jumped over the balcony and ran out into the woods. She told them all what she had experienced and why she had done the things she had done. "Unfortunately, Silik wasn't very forthcoming when Jonathan and I interrogated him. Even under the duress I put him through, he still found a way to be cryptic and not really answer any of our questions," Mac finished.

"So you still don't really know why these Suliban attacked you and your people?" This came from Kamen though a viewing screen.

"No, we don't," Archer responded. "We have had problems with them in the past, but nothing to warrant this vicious assault. We actually thought we had seen the last of them months ago."

The Captain let Reed briefly summarized some of the encounters he and his crew had had with the Suliban. Malcolm would know how much to reveal and how much not to. He shared such incidents as the problems the Suliban had wanted to create in the Klingon Empire and how they had tried to blame the death of three thousand Paraagan colonists on the _Enterprise_ crew to get the Vulcans to try and shut down human space exploration, as examples of what kinds of actions the Suliban had usually taken against the humans.

"They're always trying to impede our progress for some reason," Malcolm commented towards the end of his explanation. "We really don't know why."

"Maybe they see humans as a threat," Romdel ventured rudely.

Trip spoke up then. "Maybe a little, Director, but they've also helped save us a number of times too." Trip carefully told the Vorlorens in his audience and Mac a little about how Silik had actually saved _Enterprise _from a problem with the warp reactor that could have led to the ship being destroyed.

To Reed's relief Trip didn't go into any details about _Enterprise _or her engines; he kept the vital information to himself, using vague generalizations. Trip didn't talk about the incident with the Suliban helping them out when they were thrown back into an alternate timeline of Earth's past, or about Future Guy's involvement in the whole Xindi affair either. Trip knew the Captain wouldn't want those bits of information known by the Vorlorens.

Archer chimed back in, freely admitting his puzzlement as to why the Suliban one minute wanted to stop human progression and then turned around and aided it the next. Then he let T'Pol add her contribution.

She explained that not all of the Suliban were working with this being possessing advanced technology. "Only those that considered themselves part of the Cabal are the dangerous type of Suliban and have genetic enhancements. Most Suliban are a noble and decent species, content with attempting to live their lives in peace," she spoke as if teaching.

"Yeah, from the time I spent in the Suliban detention camp, they seemed to be good people," Travis Mayweather interjected.

"You were held prisoner by these Suliban?" Romdel asked with interest.

"No you misunderstand, Director," Mayweather tried to clarify. "They were being held prisoner because some other species viewed all Suliban as threats and enemies. The Suliban in the detention camps had nothing to do with the Cabal and all their misdeeds, but they all got unfairly lumped into the same group. Most Suliban don't want to be part of the Cabal and want to live regular lives and be at peace with their neighbors. They don't crave power and advancement."

They all left out any mention of the Temporal Cold War and time travel in front of the Vorlorens. They made it seem that the Suliban's master was just a power hungry twenty-second century bad guy.

Hoshi had been very quiet during the whole discussion. The Captain had asked her to observe the Vorlorens during their conversation. The two Council members were content, for the moment, to just listen and absorb what they were hearing. From their facial expressions and body language, she could tell they were scheming about something, however.

Romdel was another story. Hoshi thought of him as a fox, looking lazy, but being very sly. Something was going on in his mind; she could tell by the way he sat and the way his eyes lost focus once in a while. He kept stealing glances at Mac; sometimes with a possessive gleam in his eye. It worried Hoshi a lot.

Chief Suran was totally the opposite of Romdel. He listened attentively and his face had taken on a deeply worried look; frowning mouth, tight eyes, and furrowed brow. She could tell he was really troubled by the Suliban attack, and the fact that they were still a threat. He reminded Hoshi of Malcolm; very serious and sharp as a tack. His bearing seemed to be the only one that conveyed honesty and true concern.

"So you _really_ don't know why the Suliban so viciously attacked you?" Chief Suran now asked.

"No we don't," Archer took up the discussion again. "We have been back and forth with them as adversaries, but nothing like this. They have never tried to out right murder myself or my people. This kind of attack on us is very unusual for them. It isn't their normal style."

"I will make sure that my men are briefed on all the information that you have shared with us, Captain. We will be better prepared to defend ourselves and protect you, our guests. I won't be caught unawares a second time," Chief Suran vowed. Malcolm echoed it in his own mind. He wouldn't let the Suliban catch he and his men off guard again either.

The more Romdel heard about the Suliban and their commander the more he understood assuredly that the Suliban attack on the humans was the radical action that his benefactor from the future had chosen to take to make up for what Future Guy had considered Romdel's big screw up. Future Guy had said he really hadn't wanted to do it, but that it was now a necessity. The more the humans talked, the more Romdel believed his benefactor and the Suliban's master were one in the same being.

The Director's anger was fiery hot again. His benefactor _was _holding out on him. So what if the Suliban were doing more for Future Guy than the Vorlorens. They should still get more out of this deal than they were.

It was interesting to note that humans failed to mention anything about the Suliban's commander being from the future. Again, Romdel thought the humans were too cunning for their own good. They weren't as easy to fool as the Vulcan had been. It troubled Romdel that Archer and his crew apparently had had many dealings with the Suliban and the mystery man from the future; they knew too much. If they found out the Vorlorens were working with the Suliban's commander, that would be very bad, to say the least.

Then the Director was hit with another thought. The transgenic's act of self-sacrifice had also brought the genetically enhanced woman and the Captain together. Romdel's test had made her revert to her bestial nature and had made Archer pull back from her, the Director realized. The human captain had wanted to distance himself from her because he was having a hard time handling her dark side. He valiantly tried to deal with the monster inside her, but Romdel knew that Archer had been cracking.

Future Guy had revealed the other side of the transgenic to the Captain, through the incident with Commander Tucker, and they had now been intimate, had mated. Future Guy had gone around Romdel to purposely, almost personally, make sure that it happened. These realizations were making Romdel's head spin, and he was finding the implications to be fascinating. The Vorloren Commander had not intentionally tried to drive a wedge between the two humans at the time he decided to test the transgenic's abilities. He had been trying to follow Future Guy's orders to help them along in the mating process. Romdel hadn't realized the simple test would cause such repercussions, leading to his benefactor's next actions.

Now, however, it would bring Romdel great satisfaction to tear the two humans apart, and take what should have been his from the beginning. If the being from the future would not share his rewards equally, then Romdel and his people would take them by any means necessary. Hister would agree with him; in fact it had been his idea to go against the future being in the first place. Future Guy would live up to his promises whether he truly intended to or not. Romdel would show him how badly he had underestimated the Vorlorens' will to be victorious and dominate those they saw as weaker than themselves.

He would make his benefactor from the future pay for his deceit and broken promises. He would also make Archer pay for his insolence, self-righteousness, and the injuries he had inflicted on Romdel when he had punched him into unconsciousness. Romdel had not forgotten about that. The Director had to get Mac alone, and then he could spring his trap on her and find a way to push her over the edge with Hister's help.

"We extend to you our full cooperation in figuring this mystery out, Captain Archer," Kamen finally spoke again. "And we thank you and your crew for your openness and honesty. Chief Suran and Director Romdel are at your disposal. They and their resources should help you get to the bottom of it all."

"Thank you for your generosity, Elder Kamen," Archer replied, but felt there was a price to be paid for the generosity.

Kamen did not disappoint him. "We may need your help in return, Captain. We have verified for a fact that twenty of our Council, along with as many as fifty of their family members have been taken hostage by some desperate Lasiterian terrorists."

Archer sighed wearily; this was not good news. The Vorlorens were going to ask Mac to participate in a rescue attempt; not that he blamed them. Many lives were at stake and any added resource would be sought after. He had told them they couldn't use Mac that way, but they were going to try and do so anyway. Before he could openly refuse them again, Urasia spoke up.

She directed her words to Mac. "Milady, would you consider helping lead a platoon of our best soldiers to extract these innocent victims of such a heinous crime?" The Vorloren councilwoman had gone for an appeal to Mac's better nature, her desire to help those in trouble. Mac, who had been deep in thought about the Suliban and Future Guy, had not been expecting this and sat staring at the Vorlorens at a loss for words.

TBC

**What will Mac say? Stay tuned for more, and please offer encouragement by leaving a short review. Thanks!!**


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: I'm a little disappointed no one reviewed chapter 19 :( . I can tell that people have a least looked at it, but no reviews is really sad. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. It moves the plot along and has some good moments among the senior staff. In the next upcoming chapters there will be some events that knock your socks off, but you will have to bear with me. :) It will be worth it I promise. Oh, and there is a little content and language warning for this chapter; nothing over the top, but just a little to spice things up a bit.**

**Thanks LadyRainbow for all your hard beta work!!**

**Chapter 20**

"I think I need to interject at this point, ladies and gentlemen," Phlox spoke up. "I don't think McKenna is in any condition to lead an assault team. She is still recovering from acute blood loss. Need I remind everyone that we nearly lost her twice because of her choice to give half her blood volume to Commander Tucker? She should not go into battle in her current state."

Archer could have kissed Phlox for his interruption. He had just provided the perfect excuse for the Captain to turn down the Vorlorens' request. Before he could speak, Romdel beat him to it. "She seemed entirely able to defend herself and take out the Suliban warrior she found hiding out on Archer's balcony." That statement deflated Archer's hope of getting out of this predicament.

"That was one alien she took on, not dozens or hundreds as she may have to engage with in a hostage rescue," Phlox shot back at Romdel. "McKenna may have been able to have her full abilities and strength for a short time, but over an extended period her body would give out. Even as genetically enhanced as she is, she does have limits. I would strongly recommend that she not lead an assault against hostile terrorists at this time. Maybe in a few more days, when her body has completely returned to normal she could go into battle. There is also the problem of McKenna's system being out of balance still as well. Her readings are much improved, but not where I would like them to be." This was partly an untruth, Phlox admitted to himself; Mac's systems were very near normal now, but he knew the Captain would not want the Vorlorens to know that yet.

Urasia seemed a little peeved at Phlox's comments. "We do not have a few days, Doctor," she said defensively. "All the hostages could be dead by then. The young woman is our only hope of a positive outcome."

Reed had a thought. "It probably wouldn't hurt to have her help you plan your extraction strategies. From what I have gathered about her, her understanding of military battle planning is extensive. Could she provide your men with tactical support, by working in conjunction with them, drawing up possible scenarios that would have the greatest chance of success? I myself could help in that department, as well as many of our key MACO personnel."

Archer loved his people; they were saving his bacon. They were coming to Mac's aid and his aid without him having to say a word. Kamen appeared thoughtful as he took in what Phlox and Reed had said.

The councilmen looked at Romdel and said, "What do you think, Director? It is not all we hoped for, but her experience and know-how would be of great assistance."

Romdel pretended to consider the compromise. He was thinking this was the perfect way to get the transgenic under his influence. It would buy him the time he needed to bring out the feral part of her. The human and his friends thought they were avoiding the knife; when they were actually throwing themselves directly into its path. He would agree to the proposal and use it against the humans. "I would much rather have her lead the fight, but at this point we need any help we can get. I think we should agree to what the humans are suggesting. She is our best chance of getting those people out of there alive."

Jonathan turned to Mac, who had been silently taking in all that was being said. She liked the idea of being able to help, without having to be in the thick of things. Part of her loved the thrill of battle, but right now, she truly didn't feel up to it. Maybe Phlox was right and she did need more time to let her body completely heal itself from what she had put it through.

"I'd be happy to help plan a rescue operation," Mac finally said. "Phlox is right about how I feel. I don't feel at one hundred percent. What happened with Silik took a lot out of me, but I won't stand back and watch innocent people die either." She was firm on that point. Mac really did not feel well; she didn't know why, but she felt a little off at the moment.

Kamen smiled warmly at the transgenic. "Thank you, milady. We appreciate _any_ assistance you could provide."

T'Pol had a question. "Have the Lasiterians given you any demands? Have you tried negotiating with them?" Archer thought they were good and valid questions, ones he had been about to ask himself.

"We don't negotiate with terrorists," Romdel said with unconcealed contempt in his voice. "We annihilate them."

T'Pol raised a slender eyebrow at Romdel's harsh words. Hoshi beat her to a reply, however. "Have you really been fighting so long that you don't even try to communicate with your enemy? Maybe if you did, you could save yourselves a lot of trouble."

"The Lasiterians have not changed in the last three hundred years and they will never change," this came from Urasia. "They murder and destroy any Vorloren that comes across their path. They have no interest in talking to us, nor we to them. We need to defeat them and restore the proper order of things."

The _Enterprise _crew were all surprised at the intensity of the hatred they heard in the councilwoman's voice. They all realized that none of the Vorlorens had answered one of T'Pol's key questions. The Vorlorens didn't comment on what the Lasiterians had demanded in exchange for the hostages they had taken. Usually, the purpose of taking hostages was to get something in return, or make some kind of statement. The Vorlorens either didn't know what the Lasiterians wanted, or they were unwilling to share it with the humans.

Mac made a decision based on what she had just heard. "I will agree to help you rescue the hostages, but that is all. I don't want to sound ungrateful for all your people have done for me, and I want to make up for the lives I have cost you, but I will help not you to annihilate your enemy. I already have enough blood on my hands. I'm not going to add any more to it, if I can help it."

Jonathan came to stand behind her, leaned against the back of the loveseat, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He was letting her know that she had his full support in her decision. At his touch, Mac swore she knew exactly what he was feeling. She wasn't reading his mind; she didn't know his thoughts, just what his emotions were. He was deeply worried about her and his crew. Mac sensed that this mission was not turning out the way he had expected. She also knew that he didn't trust the Vorlorens as far as he could throw them; she didn't either.

They had to discover more clues as to what was going on. They needed more information about the Lasiterians. Maybe she could hack into the Vorloren's computer network and do some investigating. If she played up feeling unwell, maybe she could put off meeting with the Vorloren assault team for a little while longer and have some time with a computer terminal.

"We understand your reluctance to become involved in our war," Kamen said to the super soldier, breaking into her thoughts. "All we really want from you is to help get the innocent men, women, and children out of harm's way."

"We are assembling our team together and gathering all the intelligence we can," Urasia said. "We would like you to join them as soon as possible."

Mac hoped Jonathan would know what she was doing; she would help the hostages, but just not right away. "Could I join them later this evening?" Mac began her charade. "I truly need to lie down for a while. I really don't feel well." What she said was actually closer to the truth than Mac wanted to admit.

Jonathan caught her eye and she pleaded with him to go along with her. She felt his instant worry that something was truly wrong with her, but then he seemed to get what she was really doing. "Phlox, don't you think Mac needs to rest a little before she commits herself to anything right now?" The Captain glanced at the doctor meaningfully.

Phlox, too, seemed to understand Mac's intentions. "I think that would be the best thing for her and Commander Tucker as well. He's still recovering himself." Trip smiled weakly and nodded. He was looking a little wiped out.

"All right," Kamen said clearly seeing that the humans and the Denobulan were ganging up on him. "Please join the assault team after dinner this evening. I think we can allow McKenna that much time to regain her strength." He didn't sound happy about the situation, but he was not willing to risk pushing the humans too far.

Romdel, though he had a neutral look on his face, was frowning inside. Was the transgenic really not feeling well, or was she faking it? Both options worried him. He needed her at full capacity; it concerned him that something could be wrong with her. On the other hand, it concerned him that she, along with the other humans, could be questioning the situation.

As the Director was mulling over these thoughts, a young serving girl came into the parlor with a tray full of drinks. She was very young, maybe eighteen standard years. She must have been a new addition to the kitchen because Romdel didn't recognize her. The girl had beautiful brown hair pulled tight into a bun and her translucent skin was almost gleaming. Her skill at serving guests seemed a little lacking, only adding to Romdel's thought that she must be new.

She was having a difficult time holding the tray steady and she nearly spilled a drink all over Ensign Mayweather. She apologized profusely and tried again to perform her job. Romdel shook his head at the inept creature; he could sense her nervousness. She must have been picked for her beauty and not her actual ability, which was fine by him. Her short, light blue dress, allowed him a pleasant view.

The young serving girl smiled nervously at Captain Archer as he took a drink from her. He only smiled kindly back at her. When the young woman got to Mac she seemed to completely lose her nerve. The tray, already swaying precariously in her hands, tipped completely over and the last few drinks spilled all over the genetically engineered woman. Mac gasped as the cool liquid and ice drenched her clothing and the loveseat.

"Ohhhhh, I am so, so sorry, milady," the young girl gushed. "I didn't mean to…," she broke off, very embarrassed. She quickly began trying to clean up her mess with a towel she had over her left arm.

Mac allowed the young girl to dab at her and then helped her clean up the glasses and pieces of ice. "It's okay," Mac told her gently. "Things like that just happen sometimes." As Mac was helping the young serving girl clean up, she felt something hard in the towel as it brushed across her. The girl seemed to wipe a little more forcefully than she needed to a couple of times. Then all was cleaned up and the young woman hurried from the room, either to get more drinks or to save herself from further embarrassment.

Mac's brow furrowed as she realized the young maid had slipped something into the low neck of her uniform. She tried not to show her surprise. The young Vorloren must have dumped the drinks on her on purpose. The girl had been trying to pass her something; this was certainly getting interesting. Jonathan caught her eye again and gave her a questioning look. She subtly shook her head to let him know that now was not the time for an explanation. He tipped his head in understanding.

Chief Suran was apologizing for the clumsiness of the young maid. It was not the usual style of the palace staff. "I'm fine," Mac told him. "It's no big deal." With that the meeting broke up. The two council members signed off and the screens went blank. Romdel stood and chose to talk to Chief Suran for a moment.

Mac jumped up and whispered in Archer's ear. "We need to talk somewhere without any Vorlorens around. Let's take a walk to one of the courtyards."

Jonathan nodded his agreement and spoke to Reed and Hoshi. "Mac and I are going to sit in one of the palace courtyards for a few minutes before I make her go to bed. Would you two like to join us?"

"Certainly, sir," Reed and Hoshi said together.

"Just a minute, Captain," Phlox stopped the group and made sure that any Vorlorens were out of earshot. "I need you up in sickbay as soon as possible."

"Now?" Archer said tellingly.

Phlox relented a bit. "Well, as soon as you get McKenna resting. I am close to figuring out what is going on between the two of you, but I need to run a few more tests to be certain. How are you feeling by the way?"

"Me?" Archer asked, then answered Phlox's question when the doctor nodded. "I am feeling much better. Why?"

Phlox smiled a wide, all-knowing smile. "Let's just say, I know what you and she have been up to and I think it's part of the reason. I've been sneaking scans of the both of you, and you both appear to be doing much better than before."

Jonathan felt his jaw drop, not just at the fact that obviously his crew, Reed, in particular, had been gossiping about he and Mac, but also that Phlox had been monitoring he and Mac's condition without telling him. Could having been intimate with Mac really have helped their circumstance? Archer knew that sex really allowed two people to merge together into one, but could that oneness really be that complete? "I'll definitely keep my appointment then," Archer told Phlox.

Phlox looked at Mac before he let them leave the parlor. "Are you really not feeling well?" he asked her. "Your scans show your systems are balancing themselves much better than earlier."

Mac was honest when she said, "I really don't feel too red hot, but it's nothing that I can really define. I just feel a little off."

"Maybe your body has never experienced a normally balanced state," Phlox stated. "It may make you feel a little different."

"You are probably right, Phlox," Mac said with a sigh. "It's just a bit disquieting."

Phlox made her an offer. "I can run some more detailed exams later, if it would make you feel better."

"Sounds good," Mac said and she and Jonathan made their way out of the parlor, followed by Malcolm and Hoshi.

Romdel watched them go, arms around each other, and knew he had to act soon. He would let her "rest" and then he would begin his work on her. It was already apparent that even though the transgenic was designed to be a soldier, she had picked up the bad habit of having a conscience. She hadn't wanted to help eliminate the Vorloren's enemies; she only wanted to rescue the hostages. The Director would have to expunge that reluctance from her and turn her back into the killing machine she was suppose to be.

Once the group of four humans had reached the main courtyard with its exquisite marble looking fountains, fertile gardens, tall hedges, and blooming trees, Jonathan wanted to know what Mac was planning. "Okay, Mac, spill it. What is going on in that head of yours?"

Reed and Hoshi gathered around the transgenic as she sat down on a bench in the middle of the courtyard. It was mid afternoon and the sky was a sapphire blue. The rich and lush greenery around the group was breath taking. The colorful flowers added a bit of old-fashioned charm. The gentle rush and gurgle of the fountains was soothing. They all felt like they were in an English garden.

"I think that Vorloren maid slip me something," Mac stated as she zipped down the front of her uniform and felt down her chest, searching for the small object she could feel down there somewhere.

Reed couldn't help but enjoy seeing a bit of flesh from the gorgeous super soldier. Hoshi smacked him upside the head for his gawking and laughed at his momentary embarrassment. Archer felt his blood stir watching Mac unzip her uniform, but didn't let it show on the outside. He gave Reed a disapproving glare to hide his own interest.

"Sorry, guys," Mac laughed as she realized the commotion she was causing, "but the girl stuffed it down the front of my uniform when she was pretending to dry me off."

Reed bit back a remark about how he wished he could have done that, when the Captain glared at him angrily once again, noticing where Reed's gaze continued to be focused.

"Here it is!" Mac exclaimed triumphantly. She pulled out a tiny round disk, the size of a penny.

"That looks like some kind of data disk," Reed said excitedly. "May I see it?" Mac handed it over to him with a small smile of amusement at his giddiness.

Hoshi stepped right next to Malcolm to examine it with him. "I bet _Enterprise's_ computers could make short work of figuring out what is on it," the communications officer commented. "Why would a Vorloren maid sneak this to you?"

"I have no idea," Mac responded.

Archer had a few ideas. "Maybe she's working in an underground movement against the current Vorloren regime. Or maybe she's trying to help the Lasiterians contact us without the Vorlorens knowing about it."

"I willing to bet that it is a little bit of both," Reed stated. "I was wondering how long it would take for Lasiterians to try and contact us. I thought they would have tried to much sooner than this. From what T'Pol has told me about this civil war, both sides have openly and actively sought out help from other species. Why wouldn't they have tried to contact us when the Vorlorens did?"

"That big space battle we witnessed upon coming into the system may have something to do with that," Hoshi offered. "I've been monitoring communications between battle groups, and the Vorlorens completely decimated the Lasiterians forces. They may have been unable to contact us, or they may have been too busy to even know we had arrived in their system until now."

"And they might have wanted to observe us to see if we would be sympathetic to their cause," Archer put in. "They may have been let down so many times before that they needed to see how trustworthy we might be."

"Does anybody else here think that the Vorlorens' side of this war is complete bullshit?" Mac spoke up colorfully. Malcolm smiled at her curse, as did Jonathan. It was nice to know Mac spoke her mind and expressed the sentiment that every one of them was thinking and feeling.

"I would say most definitely. It may have started they way they laid it out in their history, but I think their goals and aims have become much more sinister than they would lead others to believe. Why else keep it going for three hundred years? I think the Vorlorens want to eradicate every last one of the Lasiterians, otherwise a peaceful resolution would have come long before now," Reed summed up.

"You mean like complete and total genocide?" Mac asked horrified. She had seen that one too many times back on the Earth of her time and years before.

Reed's expression was grim. "Unfortunately, that is what I am beginning to believe. Finding out what is on this disk may shed some light on what is really going on here."

"I'm almost afraid to find out," Archer rejoined. "If the fact that genocide is what is taking place, and we uncover that members of our newly formed alliance have actively aided the Vorlorens to accomplish that goal, we may have to rethink our affiliations."

Hoshi thought that was a very depressing thought. After all the trouble the _Enterprise_ crew, and especially Captain Archer himself, had gone to, and had been so instrumental in creating the multi-species alliance just months ago, it would be a damn shame to have to dismantle it, but Earth in good conscience could not be allies with those that condoned or supported the complete destruction of an entire species. "We really need to flush out the Vorlorens' true intentions and learn if the Lasiterians are any better, so we can make the right decisions," Hoshi stated.

Mac broke back in. "That was why I was trying to play up not feeling well. It's true that something about how I feel is not quite copasetic, but it's not debilitating or anything genuinely serious. I just wanted some time to hack into the Vorlorens' data systems and see if I could find any proof or evidence of authentic wrong doing on their part."

Archer took this opportunity to explain to Hoshi and Malcolm what Mac had been able to do to retrieve classified data from _Enterprise's_ computer files. Reed didn't know whether to be happy the super soldier could be so stealthy or worried about it. Things didn't slip past him that easily and it angered and frustrated him slightly that Mac had been able to. He prided himself on his security protocols. Mac had just blown many of them out of the water. Hoshi couldn't believe she had not been able to detect any sign of what Mac had done either. It miffed her that she had been fooled and that her sensitive ear and prodigal talent hadn't caught Mac's breach into the _Enterprise's_ computer systems.

"I relayed most of my communications signal through one of the more basic Vorloren satellite systems. It was one that they use to broadcast their version of television throughout their group of planets. I made my signal simply mimic one of the signals of a news broadcast," Mac explained to her audience. "That way no one would notice the difference. To the Vorlorens and anybody monitoring from _Enterprise_, it would appear to be a benign and innocent looking transmission."

"It obviously worked like a charm because neither Hoshi nor I detected it, and it seems the Vorlorens themselves are none the wiser," Reed commented, after he pushed his mild annoyance away. Mac could be very useful on their side. "You really think you could do it again?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," Mac responded. "Getting through the Vorlorens' deflector shield is the hardest part, but I have memorized the codes, all one hundred and twenty of them." When she got surprised stares she elaborated. "I have a photographic memory. Once I see something or learn something, I never forget it," she reminded them.

"Let's have you delve into their data files and learn all you can, Mac," Jonathan told her. "I will have Hoshi, Malcolm, and T'Pol work on the information contained on the data disk. I think that would be safer to do aboard the _Enterprise_."

Reed nodded his complete agreement. "Agreed," he said.

"If it is encrypted in any way, we may need Mac's help," Hoshi informed them, "but we can cross that bridge when we come to it." Mac smiled again at hearing, yet another old familiar Earth saying. It was comforting to know the oldies but goodies never died.

"You, young lady, I will escort back to your room," Jonathan told Mac. "Then I have a doctor's appointment."

TBC

**Remember just a few sentences about what you think is all I ask. For those of you who do review, you rock!!**


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T for a lotta romance :), but not too much, and a little violence.**

**A/N: One of the events that I promised would be a big shocker is at the end of this chapter. The first scene with Mac and Archer is because I like them together, but also to show just how serious the biochemistry/psychic link between them is becoming. And there is also another key reason for it, but that won't be relieved until later. Also, the Vorlorens true goals and nature are revealed, at least partially. Don't forget to tell me what you think. I love writing, but I do need encouragement from time to time. Please review!! Thanks!!**

**Chapter 21**

As Malcolm and Hoshi left to get permission from Chief Suran to return to their vessel, Jonathan and Mac journeyed back to her palace bedroom. When they had entered, he quickly closed the door. They still had Vorloren and MACO guards discreetly looking after them. Reed had assigned, an Ensign Barris, from his security team to act as almost a personal bodyguard when Reed himself wasn't right by the Captain's side. The Lieutenant wasn't not about to take any more chances with Archer's safety. Archer, however, found his shadow very irritating. He appreciated Malcolm's concern, but he could take care of himself.

Mac could feel Jonathan's worry like a fine mist all around her. "Are you really not feeling well, Mac?" he asked with great apprehension.

He automatically went to feel her forehead to check for a fever with the back of his hand. It was a useless gesture for a couple of reasons. The first was obvious because Phlox had just told them that Mac's bodily systems were at more normal levels now and he could detect no serious aliment. A second reason was that Mac's genetically tweaked body functioned at a higher temperature than an ordinary human. A normal body temperature for her, Phlox found, was one hundred and one degrees Fahrenheit, whereas most humans had a body temperature of ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit. That was partly why the Captain had developed a fever. Their connection was not a one-way street; she had an effect on him too. Archer made the gesture mainly because he just wanted to touch his princess.

Mac leaned into his hand; his touch was like cool water to her. "I guess I am just plain tired. I can't put a finger on why I feel funny. Maybe Phlox is right and I haven't fully recovered from donating blood to Trip, and that I am not use to being balanced."

Jonathan could feel her unexpressed and hidden anxiety, just as she felt his emotions. "Mac?" he drew her name out, like he knew she was holding back on him.

"I'm fine, Jonathan," she said more firmly. "Really. Stop worrying so much."

"I can't help it, Mac," he told her gently. "I don't want anything to happen to you. You will tell me, or Phlox, the instant you can define what might be wrong, or if you start to feel worse?" He said it more like an order than a question.

Mac responded with a sarcastic, "Aye, aye, Captain." Then she pulled away from him. "I think I need to change out of this uniform. Whatever was in those drinks was very sticky. Then I will get started on my research project."

"Sounds good," Archer replied. Mac could feel his conflict. He knew he needed to leave, but part of him wanted to stay right were he was, and he was also a little hurt at her sarcasm. Mac was didn't know whether this psychic-emotional connection was a blessing or a curse. Right now, however, she knew she needed to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she said as she came back to him. "I am not used anybody being truly concerned for my well-being."

She kissed his cheek. His conflict deepened at the touch of her lips; now, he really didn't want to leave. She didn't want him to leave either, but now was not the time for any extracurricular activities. "I'm going to go change," she said and made herself walk to the closet.

T'Pol had loaned her more than one of her uniform jumpsuits. Mac grabbed a salmon colored one to change into. She noticed Jonathan was still standing where she had left him. The woman in her could sense his desire building. She hurried to the bathroom; out of sight, out of mind, was her thinking. Archer would be able to make himself leave if she made herself unavailable, or so she thought.

Jonathan grabbed her before she made it even half way towards the bathroom. He spun her into him and kissed her. A wave of passion, desire, need, and want crashed over them. Its heady tide was pulling them under in a tumult of emotions. When their lips parted, it was only to take a breath and plunge in again, the kisses deepening and lengthening, each time. "You don't play fair, Jonathan," Mac mumbled around his lips.

" 'All is fair in love and war'," he quoted, as he slid his arms around his princess and pulled her as close as he possibly could. Mac found herself dropping on to a velvety couch with Jonathan dropping down right with her; somehow he had maneuvered them there.

Her hands ran through his hair, enjoying each caress she gave him and received from him. She felt her uniform loosening, as she loosened his and found the buttons on his black shirt underneath the jumpsuit. The tidal wave of wild and feral desires pounded into them again. Both were helpless against it, feeling not it only coming from themselves, but from each other as well. They allowed themselves to become completely submerged in it, until it overwhelmed any other conscious or unconscious thought. The smell, taste, and touch of each other became the only goal for both of them.

Mac awoke with a start, a few hours later. Boy, had they gotten distracted! Lying in Jonathan's arms, the genetically engineered woman felt so content and she felt happiness, true happiness. Jonathan could do things to her Khan would have only dreamt about. He knew exactly what she needed and she knew exactly what he needed. The unusual psychic bond that was developing between them, only added to their understanding of each other. This coupling had not been on the agenda, but she'd be damned it she didn't thoroughly enjoy herself. Archer stirred and pressed her warm body into his.

"Well, I guess we both needed that," he smiled sheepishly at her. "Wow, is all I can say to you right now."

"Yeah," she said lazily, snuggling into him. "That was most impressive."

"What I am going to do with you?" Jonathan laughed. "You could ask me anything and I couldn't refuse you. I feel that good."

Mac kissed his upper arm and shoulder. "Same goes for me, love." She couldn't keep from expressing the term of endearment. "Jonathan," she said his name tentatively. "What's happening between us, isn't going to cause you problems back on Earth, is it?" Her voice was soft and vibrated against his skin.

It dawned on Archer that this was Mac's way of tactfully asking if he was involved with anyone else. He kissed her forehead and said, "Not at all. There is no one else in my life like you, Mac, expect maybe if you count the _Enterprise_."

Jonathan felt Mac smile alongside his shoulder blade. "Ah, I have to compete with a starship. That is tough competition, Jonathan, but not unconquerable. So there's no woman in your life?"

"There is now," Jonathan informed her, and then he suddenly decided to open himself up to Mac. She deserved to learn about him from his own mouth, not by reading his service record. "I came close to marrying a wonderful and charming woman only once. It was a long time ago, and I haven't found anyone quite like her since. Her name was Margaret," he paused as he remembered her, "Margaret Mullen. I met her while attending flight school in San Francisco. I was twenty-four years old and very much in love, but my career in Starfleet was extremely important too. The night before I graduated from flight school I asked Margaret to marry me outside her apartment on Westgate Avenue." He stopped in his narration, stroking the Mac's cheek with his knuckles.

Mac sensed his remembered sorrow and imagined what this Margaret Mullen had said. "She turned you down, huh?"

"Yeah," Jonathan answered a little wistfully. "She told me she didn't want to be a Starfleet widow. She realized how much of my life would be taken up with my career and thought she would be playing second fiddle to the demands serving in Starfleet would place on me. I understood; I was asking a lot from her, but it still broke my heart."

"Some women have what it takes to accept and deal with a man who picks a military type career and some don't," Mac reached out and brushed his face with her fingertips. "It takes a special kind of woman to be the wife of any kind of officer, whether it be a police officer, military officer, federal officer, or a Starfleet officer. Your command and crew will always be a top priority, and that can be too much for some women to bear." She could feel her Jonathan's heartache and fear of never being able to find such a woman. It had kept him truly alone and from forming a real solid relationship with any woman. "So there's really been one else?" she then asked in disbelief.

"Well…there was almost…something between me and a woman named Erika Hernandez. She's captain of _Enterprise's_ sister ship _Columbia_, but…," he couldn't finish what he was saying; he wanted to be totally honest with Mac, but this wasn't something he talked about really with anyone.

Mac seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say, however. "But again, both of you take your job as captain and your career in Starfleet very seriously; make them paramount in your lives, so things have kind of petered out between the two of you."

"Yeah, exactly," Jonathan replied, a little surprised at her insight. "Erika is still a good and trusted friend and we tried for more, but it just wasn't meant to be, I guess. She is a wonderful woman, but she just isn't what I need. Hell, I don't know what I need."

"You need a woman that will love you despite your flaws, that connects with your innermost self, and that doesn't mind that your career tends to be all-consuming at times," Mac explained for him; she was seeing right into his heart. "A woman that is not afraid of adventure, but content to let you lead, and a woman that is strong, but not so much that you feel weak. You need someone that compliments you - a soul mate."

Archer leaned his head against Mac's shoulder. "What kind of woman are you?" he carefully asked. His heart was hammering in his chest fearing what her answer would be.

"Any kind you need me to be," she whispered in his ear, and then kissed his lips capturing his whole mouth. This kiss was not fueled by lust this time. Mac was telling him how much she loved him with it. It was tender, slow, and full of the truth in her words.

Jonathan responded with his own kiss, letting her comfort and soothe him. When they parted he said, "A few days ago you questioned who you were through the symbolism contained in a song. I can tell you that you are the woman that I love and would do anything for. I hope that will help you, at least in part, of finding out who you are."

Mac felt tears spring into her eyes. Her Jonathan was offering her a place to begin to define herself. She was the woman that Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise _loved, from there she could continue to discover who she was and who she wanted to become. "Oh, Jonathan, you are too good to be true," Mac whispered, as she laid her head on his chest and listened to the peaceful sound of his beating heart, its rhythm as reassuring as his words were. They continued to lie on the velvet couch just holding each other for quite some time. Somewhere in all that had happened, they had draped themselves in a blanket that had been arranged on the back of the couch to stave off the chill that seemed to linger in the bedroom.

Finally, Archer spoke again. "I should go see Phlox," he told her as he gently tried will himself to move. "He's probably wondering if I forgot about him, or if I'm trying to avoid him. Whatever readings he's going to get now, maybe totally different than if I had gone and seen him before we got lost in each others arms."

"I may have lost precious time in being able to hack into the Vorloren's data base as well," Mac commented. "But somehow I don't really care right this minute." She kissed him again, but more hungrily this time. He met her movement for movement.

Archer knew he had to snap out of whatever spell he and Mac were putting each other under, or else nothing would get accomplished. Well, okay, nothing productive would be accomplished toward solving the bizarre mystery they were all supposed to be working on. Jonathan finally extricated himself from his beautiful partner and scrambled to find his undergarments and his uniform. "I will, uh, see you back here in about an hour or so. Phlox shouldn't need me for too long. I'll try to be back for when you have to go meet with the Vorlorens. I'd like to be there when you have to work with them."

"Thanks, Jonathan." Mac again kissed his neck and shoulders, as he was trying to dress. "I need all the support I can get." Her touch was like silk.

Mac's were stirring his blood again, and he knew she was doing it to him on purpose. "Now who is not being fair," he stated.

"'All's fair', you said….," she replied and let her voice trail off. Mac's hands ran down his chest from behind. "I can play that game too, Jonathan."

Archer wanted nothing more than to give into the lovely sensations she was creating all throughout his body, but he really needed to go see Phlox. "After your little planning party, I'll let you do anything to me your little heart desires, and return the favor in kind, but right now I must fulfill my duties as captain."

"Responsibility calls, huh? I'll agree to relent, if you can say three small words for me," Mac rubbed his chest again. He almost moaned. Finally, he turned around to face her and leaned his forehead into hers. He knew exactly what she wanted to hear from him. "I love you." His words were genuine and heartfelt. He did love her right down to his soul. Archer hadn't felt this strongly about any woman, even his dear Margaret.

"And I love you, Captain Jonathan Archer," Mac returned and slowly let him stand and finish redressing himself. "Be careful."

Jonathan looked at her intently. "You too." He quickly kissed her cheek and then was headed out the door a few heartbeats later.

Mac continued to lie on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket, for several more minutes. She let her mind wander and she thought deeply about all that had been happening. The super soldier reached out to feel her beast; it had been very quiet. She found it curled up comfortably at her core. It was resting peacefully, as content and happy as the rest of her. Mac realized that she was no longer caging the Chimera. She wasn't suppressing it; it was suppressing itself, waiting to be called on, if and when it was needed. This was totally unexpected.

Mac started to feel a kind of motherliness towards her beast. She continued to reach out to it and it responded with equal affection. Its rage wasn't completely gone, but it had ceased to view Mac as its enemy. They were one in the same being and needed each other to be whole. Jonathan was the fire that was allowing the transgenic's two sides to melt and merge together. Mac couldn't help but smile. She never thought that something like this could have been possible, but it was.

She began to think about helping Trip again and how that had made her feel. Her beast seemed pleased with the act too. It liked being able to preserve a life, rather than take it. It had found that the pleasure in doing so outstripped the pleasure it usually felt during a kill. The euphoria was longer lasting and much more powerful than it felt when it killed. The Chimera was much more willing to act in a way to recreate the delightful emotions the act of saving a life brought to it. As Mac was lost in her thoughts, she came back to one about the reassuring voice or influence she had experienced twice now. She desperately wanted to hear or feel it again. So far, by following its advice, she was finding the foundation she needed to come to terms with herself.

Mac tried to quite herself, straining for any hint of the mysterious intuition. Right now it seemed to be silent. Mac couldn't help but be disappointed. Maybe it would brush her mind later, when it felt she truly needed it. At last, Mac stretched and roused herself to get up off the couch, got dressed, and sat in front of the computer screen. She only had about an hour to dig into the Vorlorens' records. Dinner would be served by then and the Vorlorens would expect her to meet with them.

As she sat at the computer terminal and hacked her way into the Vorlorens' network, she discovered that she still felt a little off. Something inside her was a little disrupted. She couldn't figure out what. Everything seemed to be getting better, but she couldn't get rid of the sensation of something inside her that was not quite right. There was something she still needed, but she couldn't figure out what it was. She had been asleep for one hundred and fifty years, there was bound to be some kind of side effects from that. Mac decided to ignore it and worry about it later. It was not serious enough to keep her from functioning; it was just something that gnawed at her once in a while.

The hour went by very quickly, but it was very fruitful. Mac knew that the Vorlorens would not openly record any illegal or unethical activities, as to not incur the wrath of the Vorloren public, unless they fully supported all of the actions of their leaders. She searched for key words and hidden meanings in any of the reports and filings from the transcripts and transmissions the Vorloren military produced. The transgenic found account after account of mass executions, massacres, death marches, experiments, unjust laws, and prisoner mistreatment, some disguised and some right out in the open. Most of the files she sifted through were classified files that only a select few Vorlorens would see. They were not for the consumption of any outsider, especially those that the Vorlorens would want to woo to aid them. All the information Mac found made Nazi Germany on Earth look like a rose garden by comparison. It brought to mind the chilling human cruelty and insane hatred of her own time. She remembered the ruthlessness of the murdering bastards in places like Bosnia, Somalia, Iraq, and Darfur, just to name a few.

Mac became nauseated and heartsick by all the atrocities she came across. Even infants and young children were not spared any of the sadistic brutality. The Vorlorens truly wanted to exterminate the Lasiterians so that there was no trace of them left. They were of the same species; they were both technically Vorloren in origin. Why did one group want to slaughter another part of themselves? It didn't make any sense to Mac. She didn't understand it among humans, and she certainly couldn't understand it among these aliens.

She knew what it was like to extinguish life, but not even the Chimera wanted to wipe an entire race of beings out of existence. It just wasn't right; it was true evil. This was her worst fears come to life. The super soldier army that Romdel wanted to build would help make that goal much more achievable. Mac couldn't let that happen, not ever. Maybe that was her purpose, to prevent the utter destruction of a race of people.

Just as Mac secretly and undetectably transmitted her findings to _Enterprise_, a knock sounded at her door. She quickly logged herself out, covering her tracks as she went, and shut off the computer terminal and disconnected the UT from it. Then she went to the door and opened it. The super soldier was expecting to find a Vorloren servant or Chief Suran on the other side of the door, coming to fetch her for dinner. It was Director Milo Romdel she found instead.

"Good evening, milady," the Director said in full charm mode. "May I come in? I am not interrupting anything am I?"

"No, no, not at all," Mac managed to say through her surprise. "Come on in. I was just getting ready to go to dinner."

Romdel strode into her room, discreetly checking to make sure she was totally alone. He knew that Archer had transported up to his ship, so the stupid human would not be in his way. He just wanted to be sure no one else was around either. "Yes, dinner is about to be served, but I wanted to talk to you first, without anyone else around." He closed the bedroom door for more privacy.

Mac's primal instincts instantly fired up sensing danger. Something wasn't right here; Romdel was up to something. She could smell his anticipation. "Is something wrong?" she asked, showing no sign of being on edge.

The Director looked Mac up and down. The salmon colored uniform went exquisitely well with her skin tone and hair color. Her hair was now down in long, curly waves, looking very sensual. Romdel couldn't help but like what he saw. She continued to fascinate him. She was an alien, but a very sexy looking one in his opinion. Maybe a little too dark skinned compared to a Vorloren woman, but her genetic superiority over the other humans and his own kind made her very appealing to him. More than anything it was the power that she represented that he found the most attractive. Yes, she was a very powerful tool for him to use as he saw fit. He was going to enjoy what was going to happen next.

"No, nothing is wrong my dear. I just wanted to have a word with you in private. I haven't had a chance to really talk with you and get to know you. I thought now would be a good opportunity. It will kill some time before dinner," he explained to her.

Surely Romdel didn't think Mac was fooled by his false display of trying to win her over? He wouldn't try anything by himself, would he? He had to know that the transgenic would wipe the floor with him if he did. What was his game? The hairs on Mac's neck were raised with the anxiety of an upcoming threat. "We only have a few minutes. What do you want to know?" Mac spoke carefully, eyeing the Director suspiciously.

"What is it like, having all the strength and power that you do?" Romdel asked as he leaned against a bedpost, trying to seem casual.

Mac blinked at him for a moment. That was not what she has expected him to ask. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, my dear," Romdel's voice was a low rumble. "Tell me what it is like to be able to take on your enemy and bring him down? What is it like to make your kill?" As he spoke, he began to pace in front of the super soldier, and then to circle her.

"I think you have the wrong idea about me, Director," Mac finally found her words. "I honestly don't like to kill people. I was trained to do so, but that doesn't mean that I enjoy it."

Romdel smiled wickedly at her. "Oh, but I think a part of you does, McKenna. You were not only trained to kill, but you were designed to be a predator, to _hunt_ and to kill. It is in your nature to do so." The Director was circling closer and closer.

Mac did not like where this conversation was going. She was constantly having to track Romdel's movements; he paced all around her. What was he doing? "That may be so, Director, but most of me regrets killing and tries to overcome those primitive instincts. I value life; it's more precious than I ever imagined."

"That kind of talk is weak, McKenna," Romdel's voice rose a little. He came to stand right in front of her now. He was way too far into her personal space for her liking, but she refused to back away from him. She was not going to let him know how much he was bothering her. "You are a soldier, created and programmed to spread death and destruction. I want to help you return to that programming. I want to unleash your full potential and release the killer inside you."

Mac was taken totally aback at the passion in Romdel's voice. His words echoed Khan's almost to the letter. This alien wanted use her to kill the Lasiterians. He wanted to turn her into a bloody and devilish monster to butcher those he found to be inferior to himself. It was just the opposite of what Jonathan and his crew wanted from her. "Director, please you've got to understand that I don't want to be a killer," she tried to tell him firmly, but her voice shook. Romdel was greatly disturbing her.

"I think you have let your pathetic and spineless human associates influence you to travel too far down the wrong path," Romdel reached out and ran a finger down Mac's cheek. It seemed a harmless move to Mac at first, so she didn't immediately block it, although it was unwanted. "Let me help you become who you are suppose to be, the perfect killing machine."

The transgenic again flashed back to Khan tempting her with the same ideas. Remembering and picturing Khan so vividly was enough to trigger yet another sensory memory. This one was not of a sensual nature; this was one of bloodlust and pure adrenaline. Her animalistic nature caught hold of a memory from the heat of battle, where Khan had pushed her into a murderous frenzy to kill a group of disloyal supermen. She relived ripping them apart and almost bathing in their blood. Each sensation was as real as the time she actually experienced them.

Mac let out a howl and a snarl as the primal forces racked her body. The finger Romdel had run down her face had pricked into her skin. He had scratched her and broken the soft tissue of her cheek. There must have been something on whatever had drawn her blood, a drug or chemical of some kind. It was extremely potent and fast acting. The sleeping Chimera was brought to the surface so quickly Mac was helpless to fight the beast's rage and lust for blood that had been rekindled. Between the sensory memory and whatever Romdel had laced her with, Mac was totally gone, locked away, and the old, vicious, and bloodthirsty Chimera rose in her place.

The Director watched in awe as the transgenic transformed before his eyes. The dark brown of her eyes disappeared to be replaced with a burning amber coloration. Some of her teeth sharpened and grew in length. Her fingernails went from pretty, stylish things, to hard, claw-like talons. He knew that the super soldier's feral nature was completely in control and the human part of her had receded into the background. Hister had not let him down. The drug had worked perfectly, despite the regeneration virus Hister had discovered circulating in her bloodstream after the incident with Tucker. It had only taken a mere scratch to cause this wonderful reaction. Romdel was eagerly imagining what a full injection would do to the feral beauty in front of him.

Hister, and the legion of scientists he oversaw, had been working furiously for the past few days on the new drug. They had tailored it specifically for Mac's special DNA and physiology. It worked in the prefrontal cortex of the human brain to affect personality, a person's sense of reality, and their will power. It was intended to strip the transgenic's morality away and give her strength of will over to her beast. The drug also performed a way to stimulate the more primitive parts of Mac's brain. The chemicals worked on her limbic system; the hypothalamus, thalamus, and hippocampus. The same parts of her brain that had been so out of balance before. It was literally shifting the balance between Mac and her demon, allowing the demon free run of Mac's mind through the control of hormone creation, release, and absorption. It flooded her neurons and synapses with false signals. The drug did its damage much faster than the Gen Virus could overpower and neutralize it.

The Chimera leapt at Romdel instantly, forcing him to the ground. The transgenic straddled him and growled ferociously at him. "I will enjoy tearing into your flesh and drinking your sweet blood," she hissed.

The Director had been prepared for her to turn on him. Hister had also helped him develop a deterrent for the beast they knew they would turn loose. Romdel jabbed a small, metallic device into the transgenic's ribcage and pushed a button. Liquid fire was pouring through the Chimera's body, burning every nerve with white-hot pain. It instantly caused her to go into a seizure. The pain was traveling up her spinal cord into the nerve bundles in her brain, causing sensory overload. The super soldier fell to the ground, unable to finish her attack. The second Romdel stopped the flow of the liquid fire, the Chimera recovered lightning fast and put some distant between herself and the Director.

"That's better, McKenna," Romdel spoke to her as he would a child. "I have an offer I think you will want to hear before you decide to slaughter me."

"Its Chimera, Director, not McKenna," the savage creature spat at him. "You won't get to use that a second time," she said indicating the small, metallic device he held.

"It is only for my protection, Chimera," Romdel said the name affectionately, "So you will listen before you act. I want to help you. I can give all the power and freedom to kill that you want, but you must do as I say first."

The homicidal beast looked at him incredulously. "I don't have to do anything you say. I am free to kill as I choose."

"Only for a little while," Romdel informed the creature. "The drug is not a permanent fix for you yet. I can give you as much as you want, and then you will never have to be caged by your weak human side again. You can have full control and limitless power, but I needed you to agree to side with me first."

Romdel saw the intelligence in the beast's eyes. It may have been true that primitive instructs drove her, but primitive did not mean low IQ. "Your drug could really let me always be in control? I wouldn't have to deal with McKenna ever again?"

"Yes, my dear, yes," Romdel knew he had her now. "You will never have to feel remorse or regret again, only exhilaration and gratification. And I will give you access to countless victims to hunt down and kill. All I want is for you to promise not to hurt me or those I tell you are off limits. I want you to work for me. In return I will pay you with the drug, carnage, and anything else you desire. Just let me guide you along, give your destructive power focus. Let me give you purpose. That's all I'm asking."

The Chimera seemed to consider his offer. It would be glorious to never have to be panged by her conscience again. She completely disregarded the foolish notion she had considered before, the one about liking to save someone's life. It was weakness, like Romdel had said, and she did not want to be weak, not ever again. Nothing could be as satisfying as snuffing out a life. Romdel was going to let her kill as indiscriminately as she wanted to and would give her the raw power she craved. She could always dispatch him later, when he was no longer useful. "If I agree, no cage, no pain device, and no limits once you give me my targets," she told him.

Romdel smiled a very self-satisfied smile. "I think we have a deal, my dear Chimera. Now we should leave this place immediately. I had my Vorloren guards take out the human MACOs after I closed the door. We need to keep you away from the _Enterprise _crew, for they will only try and take your control and power away from you."

The genetically enhanced beast knew he was right. The goody-two-shoe humans would definitely try and imprison her again. The only hesitation on the Chimera's part came when she realized this might mean losing Jonathan; she still wanted him fiercely. He was her mate, and she would not be denied what was hers. "I want Jonathan Archer as well," she demanded.

"That may not be such a wise idea, Chimera," Romdel tried to reason with the monster. "He tends to weaken your power and take away your strength. His influence is not good for you."

The Chimera didn't care; she wanted Jonathan. He belonged to her. "Then no deal, you tiny squid," she hissed at him again. He reminded her of the aquatic animal for some reason.

Romdel thought quickly, "All right, all right. I will see what I can arrange. It may be an ideal way to test and see how formidable the drug can make you."

The Chimera then decided it would be wise to let Romdel in on the secret that Captain Archer and Phlox had tried so hard to keep from the Vorlorens. "There is something hormonal or chemical within Jonathan that seems to act like a sedative on me. Something in his genome tries to overwhelm my feral nature and suppress it, but this effect works both ways. I can bring out his primal side and make him more like me. If the drug strengthens my darker side, I may be able to over stimulate Jonathan to lose control of his sentient mind and get him to join me." This thought thrilled the Chimera to no end; to make Jonathan hers and bend him to her will excited her.

Romdel soaked up this revelation like a sponge. "This is a most interesting turn of events. So he has not only been influencing you by his words and deeds, but also by his body chemistry. That is utterly fascinating and warrants further study. You will have Captain Archer after you prove your devotion to me."

The Chimera wanted to slash Romdel in half for making such conditions on her, but she was starting to feel dizzy. The drug must be starting to wear off. "Agreed, Director. I think you might want to dose me again. My control is slipping and I don't like the way that feels." Romdel didn't hesitate to prick the Chimera in the neck this time and allowing another hit of the drug to flow into her bloodstream. The result was immediate; the Chimera felt at full strength once again. "Lead the way, Director. I'm ready to do as you ask." With that said, she and Romdel walked out of the bedroom to be flanked by Romdel's soldiers, and they left the confines of the palace, heading to Sinova.

TBC

**Tada!! How is Mac gonna get out of this one and what does this mean for poor Captain Archer? More will come, but ya all gotta leave reviews to help spur me along. :) Thanks!!**


	23. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: This chapter attempts to explain a little bit what is causing the weird connection between Mac and Archer. I delved back into an old _Enterprise_ episode to help me with my explanation. Not everything is revealed, but enough for now. Also, some others of the senior staff have a break through in figuring out what was on the small data disk the Vorloren maid slipped to Mac, and Archer has an interesting reaction to Mac turning fully into the Chimera. **

**Please read and review!! I love hearing what people think. Just take a minute or two to let me know your opinions. I can't improve unless I hear from you. **

**Thanks LadyRainbow for betaing; you rock!!**

**Chapter 22**

_I__t feels nice to be home_, was the first thought that came to Captain Archer's mind as he walked the corridors of his beloved _Enterprise_. Not that the palace wasn't richly luxurious, it just wasn't the same as the vessel that the Captain had come to feel was his home. He even considered the _Enterprise_ more of his home than Earth itself. He deemed himself more comfortable among the stars, than back on the planet he hailed from. Archer very much wanted Mac to be able to walk these halls with him and enjoy the sights and sounds of this mighty ship. He had inkling that she would love it as much as he did.

The doors to sickbay, both emblazoned with Earth's universal medical symbol of healing, a winged serpent coiled around a staff, opened with a swoosh and allowed him access to Phlox's inner sanctum. The good doctor was just finishing feeding his menagerie of animals that served as both pets and medical cures. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Phlox," the Captain said almost immediately upon entering sickbay, "but something unexpected delayed me."

"That something unexpected wouldn't happen to me our charming McKenna, now would it?" Phlox teased the Captain good-naturedly.

Archer blushed slightly and replied, "Yeah, it was."

"That is quite all right, Captain," Phlox told him with a sly smile. "I do have three wives you know. Now let's get you stripped and into the imaging chamber. Then I have some interesting findings to share with you."

* * *

Up on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, Reed and Hoshi had been hard at work trying to figure out what was on the data disk the Vorloren servant had passed to Mac. They had discovered that it was indeed a message from the Lasiterians, but it was encoded. After several attempts at translating the communication, Hoshi was ready to scream. The Lasiterian language was not hard to decipher; Hoshi was able to transform the alien words into English, but they made no sense. It was like the Lasiterians were talking gibberish. To Reed, it sounded like bad poetry. The Lasiterians had used some kind of code to disguise their message. T'Pol had tried to assist in breaking the code, but with the Captain otherwise occupied, she had to run the ship as well.

"Do you think the Lasiterians are testing us?" Hoshi suddenly blurted out to Malcolm.

"Come again, Hosh?" he asked her, confused at her context.

"Captain Archer may have been on to something when he said that the Lasiterians may not trust our intentions and that they may have been observing us to see what kind of people we were. That they had been let down so many times in the past, that they wanted to be sure that we would really help them," Hoshi explained. "Maybe they are testing us by giving us this message in a code that we have to figure out. It would show our intelligence and determination, not to mention our sincerity."

"Perhaps," Reed replied. "But if they were truly desperate for help, don't you think they would just ask for it?"

"Not necessarily," Hoshi said with her lips pursed. "They may have become very picky in who they choose for allies, looking for ones that could actually turn the tide in their war."

Travis Mayweather entered the bridge. He was not scheduled to be on duty, but he hadn't been able to rest, and he really didn't want to visit the palace anymore. He wanted to do something constructive. He approached Reed and Hoshi. "Could you use any help with your translation?" he asked hopefully.

Hoshi nodded. "A fresh pair of eyes and ears is always welcome, Travis," she said. She played the message for Mayweather. He asked her to play it several more times after that. "What does 'chasing mice through a milky sky' mean?" he asked dumbfounded.

"It beats me," Malcolm said with a yawn. "The whole thing is a bloody mess."

Travis grew very thoughtful for a few moments. It seemed like he had seen or read something about codes like this once before; he just couldn't place it yet. The young ensign knew it had been when he was studying Earth's history. It was during his reading about World War II; he was sure of it. He vaguely recalled something about how the Allied Forces had tried to keep their communications from being translated by the Germans or the Japanese. Suddenly it hit him. "Navajo Code Talkers," he said aloud.

"What did you say, Travis?" Hoshi had barely heard him.

"They're coding their messages like the Navajo Code Talkers did back on Earth during World War II," Mayweather said excitedly now. "The United States used the Navajo language to code sensitive messages about troop movements and assault plans to keep their enemies from knowing what they were up to. The Navajo language had never been written down, so the Allies' enemies would have no frame of reference for it. The kicker is that they didn't use the real names of ships, vehicles, weapons, or anything like that. They developed a code using mundane words that didn't seem to relate to anything to stand for letters, countries, officers, months, airplanes, and so on."

Hoshi could have smacked herself in the head for not seeing Travis revelation sooner; she was a language expert after all. "I think you are right, Travis. They used words like eggs for when they were talking about a bomb, or a submarine was an iron fish. The Lasiterians must be doing something similar in they way they have coded their message. Now all we need is some frame of reference."

"How do we find out what their words are actually standing for?" Malcolm asked wearily.

"That's a good question," Hoshi told him. "We can start with star charts of the system and work our way in from there. Something tells me phrases like, 'Our mother and father watch over us with a painted eye', may have something to do with a location."

Travis was more than willing to plough through data with them. "Let's get started then. We have a lot of information to examine."

* * *

"Look at these three scans Captain and tell me what you see," Phlox gently ordered Archer. The Captain felt like he was playing "which one of these is not like the other" as he studied the three scans of himself Phlox had displayed on the viewing screen located by the controls of the imaging chamber.

"Well, they're all of me, I assume?" he said and continued on when Phlox nodded. "They appear to be taken at different times." Archer had noticed the recorded days and times in the corner of each scan. "And I appear to be in good health, expect for the one in the middle; something doesn't look right about it."

Phlox smiled at his student. "Very good, Captain. The middle one was taken only a few days after I gave you the antidote against the mutagenic virus that you, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Sato contracted from the Loque'eque, a couple of years ago."

"You mean the virus that was designed to rewrite the DNA of its host? The virus that changed us from humans into another species entirely?" Archer questioned, very confused why Phlox had pulled out this particular old scan.

"Yes, and which T'Pol's Vulcan DNA was used as a genetic profile for the antivirus, because the mutagenic virus had very little effect on Vulcan physiology," Phlox answered, and then went on to clarify his answer when he saw the Captain frowning at him. "As I said before, this scan was taken a few days after you were given the antidote for the mutagenic virus. All three of you responded very quickly to it, becoming noticeably human again in a very short time, but it took a little more time for your bodies to recover completely, so I ran many more tests on all of you. For all intents and purposes, the antivirus fully returned the three of you to normal. It appeared that all your genes were put back were they were supposed to be. This is what I thought until I compared some of the scans I have taken of you over the last week or so with those that I had taken of you before the Loque'eque incident."

"What are you saying, Phlox?" the Captain asked, a little frustrated at the doctor's long windedness.

Phlox took a deep breath and then said, "I am saying, Captain, that not all of you is cured of the mutagenic virus. There are extremely small amounts of it still floating around in your DNA. It has left some sort of genetic markers behind."

Archer just stared at Phlox. Of all the explanations about why he could help Mac tame her beast, this was not the one he saw coming. He thought he found a flaw in Phlox's findings, however. "Then why don't Hoshi or Malcolm have an affect on Mac's bodily systems? They were infected with the same mutagenic virus and received the same antidote that I did."

Phlox was not in the least bit phased by the Captain's question. "I came to the same conclusion, and so I had them step into the imagining chamber earlier today. I found no trace of the mutagenic virus in their cells. They had no bits or pieces of it like you do, and they don't have the genetic markers you have. They are one hundred percent cured."

The Captain had to sit down on a biobed; his feet were failing to support him. "What does this mean, Phlox?" he asked with a shaky voice.

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea, Captain," Phlox responded to his patient's obvious distress. "You're in no danger of transforming into an alien species again, and the virus is only traceable in minute particles. But I think because of the genetic markers it has left behind, your DNA is not the same as it was before. The Loque'eque seemed a very primitive and instinct driven race. I think the way your DNA and the genetic markers of the Loque'eque have combined, create a bodily rhythm that reaches out and connects with the primitive and instinct driven parts of McKenna. Your DNA literally allows you to produce a protein that reacts with the transgenic women's limbic system."

"The Loque'eque seemed to have been driven by very basic instincts, but they were far from primitive. The city of Urquat that they built, at one time would have rivaled any on Earth or Vulcan. The instinct to return to their home, that the three of us experienced, could have been programmed as part of the virus, and not be just a normal Loque'eque primal instinct," the Captain paused in thought for a minute. "They did, however, act like animals when it came to dominance and hierarchy in a group. They seemed to pick a leader, or dominant male, and then the rest would fall in as subordinates," Archer elaborated.

"T'Pol's account of the incident supports your patchy memory, Captain," Phlox replied. "The Loque'eque mutagenic virus' influence may also be why McKenna affects your bodily systems as well. I mention this because the more I study the Gen Virus that has made itself part of McKenna's DNA, the more it fascinates me. It also appears to be a mutagenic virus; although one of a very different order than the Loque'eque one. The Gen Virus could be attracted to the Loque'eque virus; they may compliment one another, or combine together in an agreeable way."

Archer had another query for Phlox. "Could the genetic markers from the Loque'eque mutagenic virus also account for why I can read Mac's emotions like they were my own? I seem to be able to know exactly how she is feeling, and I think the reverse it also true; she can feel my emotions too."

Phlox grew thoughtful. "I would have to investigate this new phenomenon further. It could be the Loque'eque virus and the Gen Virus' effect on each other. The Gen Virus is very unpredictable and its true effects on McKenna are unknown. I don't think we can rule out that it's done manipulating her genes just yet. It may be an ongoing process. I didn't realize you were experiencing a psychic-emotional link with McKenna. Another possibility could be that the Loque'eque could have latent telepathic or empathic abilities, but I am not certain. The closest species I know in any detail that has strong telepathic and empathic abilities are Betazoids and Vulcans to some extent."

"Betazoids?" Archer interrupted with the word as a question.

"Betazoids are a race of humanoid aliens from the planet of Betazed. They are all born with some telepathic abilities that usually manifest themselves when they go through puberty. Most can only be telepathic with other Betazoids, but they can read the thoughts of others from a variety of species. Some can only know how others are feeling, know their emotional state," the doctor explained. "This is a most interesting development with you and McKenna, Captain. I will have to delve a little deeper to find out why it is possible with two humans."

The Captain mulled all this over in his mind. Who knew an alien virus would find its way into his DNA and later allow him to help a sleeping beauty, transgenic super soldier from one hundred and fifty years in Earth's past? Could he chalk it all up to the confusing arms of fate, or was all this more that just mere coincidence? Deep inside, something was telling him it was much more that just fate.

Someone seemed to be manipulating events here, someone from the future. With the materialization of Silik, it had to be Future Guy. Archer remembered Silik talking about how his benefactor wanted to make sure certain things took place the way that history had actually recorded them, but was Silik lying or telling the truth? The Suliban could have made the whole story up because his benefactor wanted to change how things played out here and was trying to hide that fact. Did Future Guy plan for the Vorlorens to find Mac and then create a leak to Starfleet about the Vorlorens civil war and the fact that factions from the future could be interfering with it? Did he do those things knowing full well that the _Enterprise _and Archer would be called upon to investigate the possible factions' interference, and end up finding the super soldier?

Archer also remembered Silik's interest in his relationship with Mac. Did Future Guy know that he and Mac would react they way they did to each other, or was that just a bonus to whatever else was going on here? Did this future being know that the Captain had genetic markers left over from his experience with the Loque'eque and that he and Mac would affect each other because of them? Would Future Guy know that he and Mac would also be attracted to one another so intensely? Why would this being from the future want Silik to spy on him and Mac's intimacy? The more the Captain thought about the situation the more questions he came up with. He so wished he had gotten more out the Suliban warrior than he had. He needed to find Silik again and get the answers he needed. Hell, he wanted to talk to Future Guy, but Archer knew that was wishful thinking.

Phlox had been talking to the Captain, but he only caught the tail end of what the doctor was saying, "The scans I just took of you are almost completely back to normal. Your temperature is down, your chemical and hormonal levels are more balanced again, and your aggression level seems to be more in check. It seems that mating was an activity that allowed both of you to fully exchange body chemicals to help you both recover. It produced a plethora of endorphins that worked like a charm. Although, your sexual hormones are still very overactive, but that is not life threatening, just inconvenient."

Archer gave Phlox a dirty look, then asked, "How do you think Mac is doing? Do you think that her body will be more balanced too?"

Phlox tried not to laugh at the human prudishness that the Captain was displaying. "There is nothing wrong with a healthy libido, Captain," he told the human, then answered Archer's question. "I think Mac's scans should look synchronized to yours. Her bodily systems should be more balanced, more back to a normal level, and her libido will be very active as well. I think I know partly why there is such a fierce attraction between you and McKenna."

"And what would that be?" Archer asked, actually curious.

Phlox replied with, "McKenna contains the DNA from both humans and Earth animals, all of which the female of the species goes through a distinct reproductive menstruation cycle. The more primitive Earth animals experience it purely on an instinctual level. I believe the term is 'in heat.' I think our dear McKenna may be in this instinctive procreative state. And as part of her sees you as a dominant male and mate, you instinctively respond to her need."

Again the Captain looked at Phlox with a little disdain. "I am glad to hear that," he said sarcastically. He did not want to think too deeply about the implications of Phlox's theory right now; they could be very far reaching. "She'll be thrilled to hear it as well. If you are done with me for now, I need to go check on how Hoshi's work with the data disk we found is going. Then I promised Mac I would be there for her when she had to meet with the Vorloren extraction team." He got up off the biobed to leave. Archer also wanted Reed to look into finding any trace of the Suliban in the Vorloren system.

"I will let you know if I find any other relevant information on yours and Mac's conditions," Phlox told him as the Captain walked out of sickbay.

Archer was going to give him another sarcastic reply before the doors closed on him, but he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of intense dread and foreboding. The feeling was so strong it shook him to his core and forced him to his knees. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. His chest felt constricted and it hurt to breathe. His head began to pound. His vision blurred. Archer literally felt a feeling of doom hit like a physical blow. Finally, it slammed him into unconsciousness, and he collapsed on the floor of the hallway.

TBC

**Oh dear what I have done now?? Remember to let me know what you think. The more reviews I receive the more inspired I can be to continue. Just a few lines is all I need. Thanks!!**


	24. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: I had to put a chapter in here dealing with Trip. Since I've had him recovering from his near-death experience, he has been kind of neglected, and he is key in reaching Mac, who is now a prisoner inside her own body as the Chimera has control. This chapter helps set him up for being able to help her. Fear not, in the next chapter you will find out what's going on with Archer. I haven't forgotten about that cliffhanger. :)**

**Please leave a review and make my day!!**

**Thanks again to a very awesome and wonderful beta reader, LadyRainbow!**

**Chapter 23**

Trip was taking a leisurely walk through the palace gardens. He had slept for a few hours and now he felt like breathing in the fresh air and letting the fiery Vorloren sun warm his still slightly chilled body. He couldn't believe Mac's blood had given him such a speedy recovery. He was still a bit shaky, easily fatigued, and weak from time to time, but he was alive and feeling much more like himself. The chief engineer had decided to stay down on the moon and in the palace. It was much more conducive to gaining back his strength than lying insickbay, or in his cramped quarters onboard _Enterprise_. He really liked being planet side right now. Sure, he missed his beloved engine, but exploring an alien world was much more enjoyable at the moment.

As Trip made his way through some of the palace's outer gardens, he heard the drum-like beat of a large number of marching feet coming from up ahead. He cautiously crept through the flowers and bushes to where he could see the front entranceway to the palace itself, and through the foliage, he witnessed a squad of about thirty Vorloren soldiers marching down the road, out and away from the palace. In their midst, from his concealed position, he noticed Romdel, flanked by some kind of personal guard. What surprised Trip the most, however, was the fact that Mac was walking right next to Romdel, like they were best friends.

The way Mac carried herself seemed wrong. Trip was too far way to see a lot of detail, but he caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were the eyes of her beast, not her luminously dark brown ones. They didn't glow, but reflected an eerie amber light. They reminded Trip of a wolf's eyes; savage, but cunning, feral, but intelligent. He felt a chill spread down his spine to his toes; the transgenic was obviously not herself. Her demon appeared to be in control, and her proximity to Romdel suggested to Trip that the conniving, little bastard had something to do with her current state of mind. The Director was leaving the palace, and Mac was going willing with him.

This was not good in Trip's estimation. He had no way to contact _Enterprise _and let Captain Archer know of Romdel's treachery. He briefly tried to feel his bond with T'Pol, but for some strange reason he got nothing; not a flicker or buzz, only blankness. It alarmed him, but he had a more pressing matter to worry about at the moment; he would have to figure it out later. So the chief engineer did the only thing he thought he could to help his new and dearly loved friend, he made the choice to follow the entourage to see where they were taking Mac and what they planned on doing with her. He knew that without Archer around, he was Mac's only hope of breaking whatever hold Romdel, or her demon had on her.

His main problem was how to follow them without being noticed; he couldn't follow if the got into any vehicles. As he became lost in thought on how to accomplish his self-imposed mission, he failed to realize he had company. A strong, neon green hand clapped around his mouth and pulled him further into the bushes. Trip's first instinct was to struggle and fight against his captor. This reaction didn't last long though, because Trip's body was just not up to the task yet. "Easy, frail human, I'm not here to hurt you, this time," a soft, feminine voice purred in his ear. "If you promise not to disclose our position, I will let you go."

Trip nodded his response, for his curiosity level was high. His captor released him, and he instantly turned around to face her. The chief engineer beheld a slim and tall Suliban female. Her yellowish eyes were narrowed at him guardedly. She had the bumpy, bright green skin that all Suliban had. She was bald just like most Suliban Trip had seen, but she was exotically feminine, and she held herself with an easy confidence. "My name is Kajine. I am the one who attacked you and almost ended your life. I want to apologize for that. I was only following orders and really had no ill will against you. I am glad to see that the situation I placed you in was resolved with a positive outcome."

Trip just stared at her. His mouth opened and closed trying to respond to her, but nothing came out of it. Why had this Suliban been ordered to try and slice him to death? Why was she here now saying she was sorry? "I would not blame you for any anger or hatred you might feel towards me, but I want to help you now. I desire to make up for my earlier actions. I can see that you are trying to follow your transgenic friend to find out what the Vorlorens are planning on doing with her. I can help you do that undetected, but you will have to trust me. Are you willing to join with your enemy to help your friend?"

It took Trip a moment to find his voice, and when he did all that came out was an incredulous, "Are you serious?!"

"I would not be here if I were not," the Suliban female told him hotly.

Trip wanted to say yes to her help, but her confession of trying to kill him made him wary. "I'm really confused, Kajine," he told her. "What's goin' on here? Why were you ordered to try and end my life?"

"I cannot reveal the full extent of my mission to you," she said, "but let it be known that McKenna in a primal condition is not good for my benefactor or for you and your people. We have a common problem to solve, and we need to work together. And I was not truly trying to kill you, just injure your severely enough to sway the transgenic to give into her natural instinct to reach out and try and save you."

Trip eyed her suspiciously. "I thought Mac's natural instinct was to hunt down and kill her prey. Why would you say that she had a natural instinct to want to preserve a life?"

"Both of those instincts are natural to her," Kajine said matter-of-factly. "It has only been up until now that her darker instincts have been given more attention. Her more compassionate ones need a push to make them her more dominate reactions to situations. She has always had them; she just didn't know how to access them."

"So the whole slice and dice incident was just to bring out the selfless side of Mac?" Trip asked dubiously.

"Yes," was all the female Suliban would say in reply to Trip's direct question.

Trip couldn't believe the insights this Suliban had about Mac's character. How did this alien know all this? "I can see how I need your help, but I don't see why you would want mine," he finally said, his voice full of doubt.

"You have formed a meaningful and true friendship with the transgenic," Kajine informed him. "She cares for you and your well being. She risked her life to save yours. She trusts you. Captain Archer is not here, nor can he be for quite a while, to break the hold her feral self has on her. You, Commander Tucker, may be able to get through to her in his place."

It disturbed Trip that the Suliban had thought the same thing he had thought just moments before. "Okay," Trip said slowly. "Say I agree to team up with you, what then?"

"I can extend my camouflaging ability to include you," Kajine said it like it was an every day thing. "We can then follow McKenna undetected and find out what Director Romdel is doing to her. None of this was supposed to happen, at least, not like this."

Trip was being swayed to accept Kajine's help, but he still felt uneasy. "First, before I agree to your proposal I have to ask you a question, and I want a straight answer."

Kajine just looked at the chief engineer expectantly.

"Why does your benefactor not want Mac to go primeval? I mean, why does Future Guy care at all about Mac's state of mind?"

Kajine smiled in amusement at the title that the humans had given her mysterious commander. "All I can tell you is that he cares deeply about her. She is very important and special to him. Again, part of the reason I was ordered to attack you was to help her overcome her more volatile nature. My benefactor was hoping she would choose to save your life and access her compassionate side. She is capable of accomplishing a lot of good, but not if she can't overcome her dark side."

"Why does Future Guy want that to happen?" Trip was dying to know.

Kajine became a little angry. "I answered your question as fully as I can. I will not say any more. Take it or leave it." This human was wasting valuable time.

"Fine," Trip shot back at her. "Just know that we will find out what Mac's connection is to your benefactor sooner or later, with or without your help." He didn't trust the Suliban as far as he could throw her, which in his current condition wasn't far, but she was the only way for him to be in a position to help Mac.

"Fair enough, Tucker," she replied. "Now we must get moving or we will lose her." With that she shimmered into invisibility taking Trip with her.

Together they were able to stowaway in one of the hovercraft vehicles that was transporting Romdel and Mac away from the palace. Kajine was well aware of Mac's sense of smell and stayed down wind of the transgenic's nose. The Suliban chose to lie in hiding in a vehicle separate from the one that Mac was in so that she and Trip would not be detected by the super soldier. The Vorlorens had no way to know that they had trespassers in their midst otherwise. Trip could tell that the hovercrafts were heading to the secret, deep underground base of Sinova. That worried him; once inside, he and Kajine would be completely on their own.

The commander was trying desperately to come to grips with the fact that this Suliban had cut him open and allowed him to almost bleed to death. It troubled him that she had done it with the express purpose of trying to cause some kind of reaction in Mac. What if they had been wrong about Mac's inner desire to help him? What if Mac had not stepped forward to save his life? Then his thoughts turned to how he was suppose to help Mac now. He didn't have Archer's ability to affect the chemicals in Mac's body. Trip knew he was not viewed as a dominant male in Mac's eyes, at least not anymore. She had chosen her mate. Could his friendship be enough to influence the transgenic for the sake of good? He had his doubts that mere friendship would sway her.

When the hovercraft landed at the mega complex at Sinova, and the entire caravan of aliens and their human weapon passed through all the security check points, Trip and Kajine were able to slip by unnoticed with them. The next hurdle to overcome for the interlopers was the elevator. Mac's heightened senses could flush them out if they got too close to her; Silik had learned that the hard way. They would have to find another way to the entourage's destination. Kajine watched the digital readout of the numbers as the elevator began its descent. It finally stopped at level twenty-one. Now all Trip and Kajine had to do was find a way down there.

Trip observed many of the Vorloren soldiers waiting for a second elevator to come up and greet them; not all of them had been able to fit in the first elevator. Kajine silently signaled to her human partner that they should follow the group of soldiers. Trip nodded his response. As the doors to the newly arrived elevator opened and the troops filed in, so did Trip and Kajine. Again, none of the Vorlorens had a clue that they had intruders in their group. Trip internally thanked the genius of the technology that the Suliban possessed. Kajine might not be truly trustworthy and her secret reasons for wanting to help Mac might be different than Trip's, but she was extremely useful.

True to the duo's assumption, this group of Vorlorens got out of the elevator on level twenty-one as well. Trip stopped in his tracks to take in the scene in front of him as he stepped free from the elevator. In front of him and Kajine was a gigantic, metallic walkway. On either side of the walkway were enormous, clear, crystalline windows. Beyond these huge observation decks were hundreds, if not thousands of what had to be the Vorlorens' version of super soldiers.

They were dressed in the familiar Vorloren uniform, but these two-piece uniforms came in black, not gray, and they appeared to have ridges, or had a ribbed looked to their surface from top to bottom. They had none of the shiny, silvery buttons to show rank, as did the regular Vorloren soldiers. These soldiers stood in perfect lines that seemed to stretch out before Trip forever on both sides of the walkway, like they were at strict attention. Trip also noticed that these Vorlorens had highly translucent skin, almost completely see through. Only a touch of the silver look reflected off their bare faces and hands. They also were completely bald, without even any facial hair. The super soldiers appeared to be bulkier, more muscular, and much taller than a typical Vorloren.

Trip could see the shock and disbelief on Kajine's face. Even though they were camouflaged to everyone else, they could see each other in perfect detail. It seemed that the Suliban had not realized that the Vorlorens had progressed as far as they had with their super soldier program. Trip was sure the look on his face mirrored his partner's. Captain Archer would have flipped out if he could see what Trip was seeing. The commander cursed the fact that he could not get any of this vital information to his captain. He tried the accessing his bond with T'Pol again, and was met with a wall of nothing once more. It was really starting to scare him.

Kajine had turned her attention to where Mac and Romdel had gone. If Trip looked up and to his left he could see what Kajine was looking at. There was a large and wide laboratory up above with tall and expansive windows that looked down upon the silent super soldiers. Trip could make out walls lined with computer terminals and all kinds of testing and lab equipment through the windows. Mac was standing at the line of windows, peering out at the super soldier army. The chief engineer could see her amber eyes and her smile was fanged. Trip tried to blink the fearsome sight away, but it stayed true and sure. She seemed extremely impressed with what she saw.

He and Kajine needed to get up into that lab and find out what Romdel was talking to Mac about; they had to eavesdrop on that conversation. Kajine seemed to have the same thought as she moved forward, and beckoned for Trip to follow her. They walked briskly down the walkway and came to a hallway that split to the left and right. Trip spotted a stairway rising up from the hallway down to the left. That had to be the way up to the lab. The partners in crime raced up the stairs and found themselves in the middle of the titanic lab.

All kinds of computers, view screens, test tubes, incubators, microscopes, hot plates, electrodes, imaging chambers, bioscanners, centrifuges, mass spectrometers, and various other equipment were littered throughout the room. Examination tables lined the far wall. Many military personnel, scientists, and medics, rushed to and fro all around the room. Mac and Romdel were at the other end, still standing by the observation windows. "You've been very busy, Romdel," Trip heard Mac say. He swore that her voice sounded deeper, huskier, than before.

"I have a confession to make to you my dear, Chimera," Romdel said leaning against a railing that ran along the windowed wall.

Mac smiled slyly at the Director. Did Romdel deal just call her Chimera? Trip remembered Archer telling him that Mac's alter ego, her beast, liked to be called that. That only confirmed for Trip that the demon was in control, not Mac. "More secrets, Director," she purred.

"Always," he responded. "I lied to Archer when I told we had just barely found you. We have actually had you in our custody for almost eight years now. It is true we didn't know how to revive you without damaging or killing you, but that didn't mean we couldn't study you in great detail and take a few DNA samples here and there."

"Would anything you took have been viable enough for you to work with?" the Chimera asked. "I mean I was cryogenically frozen."

Romdel smirked. "Isn't obvious that we did? Just look at our little army. All of what you see started with you as a pattern. We just modified our findings to work with our physiology. We used an enhanced growth hormone to get our creations to mature to adulthood faster than normal. It worked perfectly."

"But you kept telling Jonathan that you need more DNA and tissue samples from me. Was that just a rouse to keep him and his crew here?" The Chimera's voice was very hypnotic to Trip's ears.

"Mostly," Romdel admitted, "but there are certain and specific samples we want from you that would only be viable now that you are wake and now that all your bodily systems are up and running."

"And what would those samples be?" The Chimera's voice now had an edge to it; Trip sensed she was not a happy camper.

Romdel just smiled wickedly, his white moustache curving with it. He saw no reason now, not to be honest with the transgenic. "We want some of the eggs from your reproductive system. They are the truest source of fresh and useable DNA we can get. We have now developed a way to fully integrate that DNA into newly designed Vorloren embryos to create an even stronger and more resilient generation of super soldier. And we also have the ability to transmit Vorloren DNA directly into your eggs, and we could fertilize them to make them into some astonishingly superior embryos."

"What makes you think I will let you have any of my eggs?" The Chimera was clearly angry now.

"You will give them to me as part of the payment for the drug I have offered to you," Romdel said with supreme confidence. "No eggs, no drug."

The Chimera all but roared a response at Romdel. "You rotten bastard! You are changing the arrangements of our bargain already. I should have known. I ought to rip you apart right now and be done with you, drug or no drug! No one controls me! Not Mac, and certainly not you!" She advanced threateningly on the Director, amber eyes blazing. Trip felt real cold and deep fear wash over him; the Chimera could be a terrifying sight.

Romdel realized his mistake quickly. She had to feel in control, even if she wasn't, or there would be big trouble. He tried to pacify the monster. "I am not trying to control you, Chimera," his voice became gentler, and he backed slowly away from her. "I only want what is best for my people and for you. I need what you have and you need what I have. I won't make you do anything that you don't want to.

"When you feel comfortable with the idea of donating some of your precious eggs, only then will I ask you to do so, but we desperately need them to complete our work. Learning of your unique healing ability greatly excited us, and it has proven to be next to impossible to duplicate it. The problem with the super soldiers we have now is that they grow fast, burn magnificently bright and strong, but then burn out and fade into nothing useful far too quickly; they do not last very long. We need superior soldiers that will withstand and not grow weak. Your Gen Virus infected blood is the answer and why not start from birth with it. Give our next generation of super soldiers all the advantages. You see, _you_ are the one who has control of _us_." All of what he said was partially true. The Gen Virus was unique only to her. It did not lend itself to being synthesized or recreated outside her body.

Trip was starting to get creeped out by Romdel's smooth talk. It was like the alien knew exactly what to say to the Chimera to bend her to his will. "We shall see," the demon hissed. "But if you try to pull something like that again, or threaten me in any way, you are a dead man Romdel, I promise you that." The transgenic turned away from him abruptly, looking out at the Vorloren super soldiers again. Even with the Chimera in full control, this demon still seemed conflicted. Like actually getting what she wanted was not what she thought it would be. Like things weren't as clear as she thought they would be either.

Trip wanted to go to her and hug her to him; even in all her fierceness, she still had some vulnerability. Something told him the Chimera was not the total monster that she made herself out to be. This monster had good in her, it just needed to be nurtured; Kajine was right. Take away her rage and anger, and the demon wouldn't be a demon anymore. Trip didn't know where these insights came from, but he held onto the hope it brought. Trip had also learned that Romdel had given Mac some kind of drug that brought out her beast, put it in control of Mac. If he could get her away from the drug, the effects might wear off, and the human super soldier might become easier to deal with. This was all good news.

* * *

The Chimera continued to stare at the magnificent army in front of her. It gave her something more enjoyable to dwell on than what Romdel had just told her. She felt a strange and morbid joy knowing that she would be in command of this army. They could spread death and destruction much more effectively and thoroughly than she could on her own. In the darkest part of her heart, she wanted to cause others pain, because it took away her own; revenge was a sweet and tasty dish. As the transgenic was relishing these thoughts, others tried to force them out of her mind. Something wanted to chip away at the hard, brick wall she had encased her heart in; something wanted to unchain her heart and release her negative emotions.

Suddenly, but very softly, and very gently the mysterious intuition or voice whispered to the super soldier. _Forgive_, she thought she heard, or felt. _You must forgive_._Let go of your rage, _the voice continued. _Let go of your hate._ For a small moment in time the Chimera thought she felt the comfort and warmth of unconditional love accompanying this new message; then it withdrew and was gone.

The transgenic had to mentally shake herself. Whom was she suppose to forgive? All she had was her rage and hate; it was what protected her, made her strong. Now she was just supposed to give it all up? The Chimera didn't think so. To even entertain weak thoughts like these, the drug Romdel had given her must be wearing off. She shouldn't have had any flash of conscience or morality at all; that fact angered her even more.

Again her thoughts changed and the Chimera remembered the exquisite happiness she had felt when she had saved Trip's life. The beast had to admit, even deep down in the darkest part of her soul, that act had felt so damn good. She knew of no stronger emotion, and it brought tranquility and serenity to her. It had been such a novel experience she didn't know what to make of it. But what did it matter? Mac had been foolish and dimwitted to think that one good deed could undo a lifetime of bad ones. There was no redemption for this demon. She had been designed to be a killer, so that's what she would be.

"Director," the Chimera said as she turned back to face Romdel. "I think another dose of your wonder drug is needed. My mind is not as clear as it should be. I want to test your creations to see what they are made of, but to do that I need to be fully myself."

Romdel breathed a small and unnoticed sigh of relief. He thought she would crumble on him. Evidently, the monster still wanted what he had to offer. It was good to know that his commodity was worth its price. "Certainly, my dear, and I think a test of our warriors would be an excellent idea. Then we will discuss how you will command them and what objectives you and your army will be given. We need to strike at the Lasiterians as soon as possible. They are in a weak position right now and will not see our new breed of soldier coming. They are ripe for slaughter."

"I like the sound of that, Romdel," the Chimera told him, as a familiar smell pulled at her attention. It was the heady scent of the bayou, or the fresh scent of rain. Trip instantly came to her mind, and that thought brought with it the comfort of her pack. She automatically glanced around for him, but saw nothing; that was odd. Why did she smell him, but not see him? She sniffed the air again and caught the scent stronger this time. It definitely smelled like Trip, but he was nowhere to be seen. What the hell was going on? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

Romdel seemed to pick up on her distress. "Is something wrong, Chimera?" he asked, concerned.

"I thought I smelled something I recognized, but I can't determine its source," the transgenic answered, still sniffing the air.

_Oh shit, _Trip thought, _she can smell me_. He looked apologetically at Kajine. He had unconsciously moved up wind of Mac, closer to her. Kajine motioned for him to stay put. The Suliban knew that any motion now could possibly alert the human super soldier to their presence. The Chimera moved almost to the spot where Trip stood, her nose continually testing the air. Trip literally held his breathe in fear that her sensitive hearing would pick up its sound. After what seemed like an eternity, the Chimera moved away. "I don't know why I can smell what I smell. He clearly isn't here," she finally commented.

"Whom are you talking about?" Romdel wanted to know.

"Trip," she said his name affectionately.

Romdel was stunned. It was apparent to him that that Commander Tucker was not around, but it bothered him that the transgenic had fixated on the human. She had risked her life to save his and had a strong connection to him. He was not a good influence on her, in Romdel's opinion. Romdel assumed that Mac was trying to reassert herself by calling upon her association with Tucker. The Director would have to increase the dose of the next drug injection. The effects of the drug didn't last as long as he would have liked.

Then she heard it though the din around her, the sound of an extra heartbeat, and then another. The Chimera quickly counted the number of people in the room. She accounted for every guard, military personnel, medic, and scientist. She had positively picked up the sound of two distinct extra heartbeats. She located them near the stairwell, one closer to her than the other. In a blur of motion the transgenic launched herself at the place where she determined the nearest one to be. Trip had no time to react. The human super soldier tackled him to the ground and the camouflage concealing him failed. He was totally exposed for all to see.

As the transgenic pinned him to the floor, straddling him and holding him in a vice-like grip, she grinned viciously at him. "Hi, Trip," she said seductively with her lips to his ear. "It's good to see you."

TBC

**Uh-oh, Trip is in trouble, again. How will he get out of this one? Please let me know what you think. Feel free to comment. Thanks!!**


	25. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T for language and some romance.**

**A/N: Here you learn what happened to poor Captain Archer and the trouble he decides to give Phlox. After that the chapter deals with Trip and the Chimera. Trip is the only one in any position to try and get through to her softer side. I rewrote this chapter like three times, trying to get the right tone and feel. I think this final revision works; at least I hope it does. I wanted to get the angst and struggle just right. That's why I took so long to post. You can tell that I'm a fan of Archer and a fan of Tucker. I've made Mac have a soulmate-type relationship with Archer, but Trip is the friend that just understands her the best. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. **

**Thanks to LadyRainbow for her suggested improvements and for betaing this monster twice!!**

**Chapter 24**

Captain Archer came back to consciousness with a marvelous headache. He found himself lying in one of the medical beds in Sickbay, soaked with sweat. He groaned as the intense feeling of dread threatened to overwhelm him again. The lights were down low and Sickbay was relatively dark and unusually quiet.

Phlox's voice startled him. "At last you're awake. You had us all extremely worried. How do you feel, Captain?" The doctor had been sitting in a chair next to Archer's bed.

The Captain found that his throat was parched, and his voice was hoarse when he answered. "Like I got run over by a cargo hauler. What happened?"

"As far as I can tell the cause of your collapse was nothing physical," Phlox informed him. "Your body appears to be reacting to something with physical symptoms, but the root cause seems to stem from your psychic-emotional link with McKenna. You are being affected by her thoughts, emotions, and her bodily systems. She must be very unbalanced again, and you are feeling it."

"Did something happen to Mac? Is she all right?" Archer was almost in a panic. He tried to sit up, but instantly regretted the action as blinding pain stabbed through his head.

Phlox pushed him back down onto the bed gently. "Take it easy, Captain. You are really unwell. Your body temperature is up to one hundred and one degrees and your hormones are all over the place." The doctor paused a moment, and then went on to give Archer more bad news. "When I had Hoshi contact Chief Suran, he reported that McKenna could not be found anywhere in the palace or on its grounds. She has disappeared."

"What?" the feeling of dread increased ten fold as he spoke. Archer's first thought was that the Suliban must have abducted her, that Future Guy had them claim her for him. But then, another more dastardly thought occurred to him: Romdel must have done something her.

Phlox went over to a small, clear tank of ice water and pulled a large, soaked cloth out of it. He started to wrap the cloth around the Captain's body. "This is to help bring your fever down. Your entire body is affected. All injections of medication and use of technological means have failed to bring it down. I am now resorting to old-fashioned methods to try and cool you." Phlox felt the need to explain to his captain what he was doing. He then went on about Mac. "Chief Suran has sent out a search party to try and find McKenna, but all attempts have turned up nothing."

"Romdel," Archer said weakly. "Has anyone questioned Romdel?"

"He is not responding to any communications from us or Chief Suran," Phlox said as he finished mummifying the Captain. To Archer the chilled cloth felt like heaven, refreshing and soothing.

"I've got to find him and beat him into the ground!" the Captain said full of vehemence.

Phlox knew this threat of violence was from Archer's testosterone levels climbing through the roof. The Captain would become continually more and more aggressive if his body didn't start checking itself. "You are in no condition to do anything to anybody, Captain," Phlox stated calmly. "Lieutenant Reed is working with Chief Suran to get to the bottom of the situation. They will find out where Romdel has gone and what he has done."

At that moment the sickbay doors swooshed open and T'Pol stepped gracefully through them. "How is he?" she asked immediately.

"He is conscious, fevered, and extremely agitated," Phlox warned the commander.

"But I'm still able to ask for a status report," Archer said forcefully.

T'Pol cautiously approached the Captain lying on the medical bed. "I have good news and bad news," she stated gravely.

"Let's hear the good first, please," Archer's voice was weak again.

"Ensign Sato and Ensign Mayweather are exceptionally close to figuring out the Lasiterians' message from the data disk that was given to McKenna," T'Pol began. "They believe they have cracked the code the Lasiterians used to protect their communication. When you are feeling up to it, they will brief you on what they have discovered. It appears that the message contains directions to a secret base and a desire to meet us there. They want us to respond and give them an answer to their invitation."

At least one thing had gone right. "That was fast," Archer commented on the translation and decoding process. T'Pol looked at Phlox with a pained expression. "What?"

"Phlox hasn't told you?" she then asked becoming more stoic.

"I hadn't gotten a chance to get into that little detail," Phlox said guiltily.

T'Pol raised one of her pointed eyebrows in response before saying, "You have been unconscious for four days, Captain."

"Four days!?" Archer growled. "You are telling me that Mac has been missing for four days and nobody seems to know where she is?!"

T'Pol answered him with her typical Vulcan calmness. "We are fairly certain that Romdel is responsible for her disappearance, and that he has secured himself in Sinova. Chief Suran and Lieutenant Reed are trying to get the Vorloren government to force Romdel talk to us, but they claim he is not responding to any of their inquiries and has locked down the facility at Sinova."

Archer could tell that T'Pol was holding something back, some other piece of bad news. "Is there something else you need to tell me?"

The commander shifted uncomfortably in front of the Captain's glare. She took a deep breath and said, "Trip is missing as well."

That got Archer's attention. He sat up again, straining against the cool wrappings around his body and ignoring the pounding pain in his head. "How did that happen?" he demanded.

"He went for a walk in the gardens in front of the palace and never came back," T'Pol tried to keep the emotions she shouldn't be feeling out of her voice. "It seems he disappeared about the same time McKenna did."

"Do you think Romdel snatched him too?" Archer said as he worked at freeing himself from the cold cloth. Phlox had grabbed his wrists and was attempting to stop him.

"Captain, you must lie back down and keep the cloth wrapped around you to help relieve your fever," the doctor told him harshly, cutting off whatever reply T'Pol was going to make.

"Sorry, Phlox, but I don't have time to just lie here," the Captain ripped his wrists out of the doctor's grasp. "Besides, I don't think anything but helping Mac will bring down my fever. I feel that she is in serious trouble, not physically, but emotionally and mentally."

Phlox tried again to restrain his unruly patient. "As I said before, you are in no condition to go anywhere, Captain. You will be of no use in helping McKenna if your fever kills you."

"Phlox is right." T'Pol took the doctor's side. "Everything that can be done to resolve the situation is being done. Your involvement at this point would be illogical. You cannot add anything to the equation right now."

Ferocious anger seared through Archer; he would not be kept from finding his mate. "I will not stand by and do nothing. You won't stop me from going and helping her."

Both T'Pol and Phlox were shocked by the primal rage that was evident in the Captain's voice. He would soon become excessively violent, they feared. His pupils were almost fully dilated. The depths of his anger could be viewed through his eyes. Phlox looked meaningfully at T'Pol.

"Don't force me to call security, Captain," T'Pol said with more confidence than she felt. "You must do as Phlox has ordered you to do."

"I don't think so, Commander," he hissed at the Vulcan. He struck out at Phlox with surprising force, the blow knocking Phlox to the ground. The Denobulan's lip was now bleeding. This was no small feat, since Denobulans were stronger than humans. While Archer was preoccupied with the doctor, T'Pol moved swiftly around behind him and gave him a Vulcan nerve pitch near his neck. Instantly the Captain arched under the nerve pressure and then passed out, falling back down on to the medical bed.

T'Pol then turned her attention to aiding Phlox to his feet. "Are you all right?" she asked with the doctor with concern.

"I'm fine," he stated as he wiped at his mouth, for Archer had bloodied him. "The Captain just caught me off guard, that is all. I may have to find a way to keep him unconscious for a while. He is reverting to some very basic instincts. Whatever is happening to our dear transgenic is overflowing into the Captain. Her primal nature must be at the forefront and in control. It is the only thing I can assume to be the cause. Her link with Captain Archer genuinely goes both ways. We need to find her and as quickly as possible, if not for her sake, then for Captain Archer's."

"And that is proving to be very difficult," T'Pol commented. "The Vorlorens don't seem to want be of any real assistance."

"Let's hope that Lieutenant Reed will prove to be as resourceful as we give him credit for," Phlox said as he rewrapped Archer with another cold cloth.

"Indeed," T'Pol replied.

* * *

Once the Chimera had uncovered Commander Tucker, Romdel had instantly ordered a search for any Suliban in the complex. It was the only explanation as to how Tucker had gotten into the highly secured, underground facility. Romdel knew that the humans possessed no such stealth ability or technology. He also ordered the Chimera to add in the search; her acute sense of smell and her other heighten abilities would greatly aid in discovering any Suliban's presence.

The Chimera had done as Romdel had commanded, but very reluctantly, for it meant having to leave Trip in the hands of the Vorlorens and not her own. She liked Trip almost as much as Mac did. He was very attractive and smelled so delightful. She liked the way she felt around him and wanted to explore her feelings in more depth and detail. But finding and eliminating a threat was the bigger priority right now, and the soldier part of her, along with her hunting instincts, couldn't be denied. She went and did what she was designed to do: search and destroy.

Kajine had fled when Trip was discovered. The commander didn't blame her in the least. He fervently hoped that she gotten away and would alert someone, anyone, to what was going on with Mac and the Vorloren super soldier army. She was about the only hope of that happening now. Trip was glad that he had been caught, for now he could try and influence the Chimera. He was in the perfect position to help his friend, the angel that had saved his life. He didn't like that he was in the custody of Romdel and his people, however; that was down right scary.

Romdel wasted no time in securing Trip and locking him up. At least he hadn't thrown Trip into a six by six cell. He was put in what he assumed had to be some type of living quarters. There was a small main room, a bedroom, and a washroom. It was spartan, but better than a jail cell. The Vorloren director couldn't afford Trip running loose with all the information he had learned; it would blow all his secret plans to hell and back. But the director knew he couldn't kill or dispose of the chief engineer either. The Chimera would go ballistic if that happened, and right now Romdel wanted to keep her as happy as possible.

It was obvious to Trip that Romdel was now using him as leverage against the Chimera to keep her under his thumb. The chief engineer was another bargaining chip for Romdel to use against the Chimera, besides the damn drug the director kept feeding to her to encourage her to work with the Vorloren leader. The drug seemed to be allowing the Chimera to be in full control, but it took more and more of it at a time to keep things that way. It seemed that the Gen Virus was well on its way to overcoming the poison the drug represented to the transgenic's body. Romdel wanted to make sure that if the drug failed to be compelling enough, that the holding of the chief engineer would be.

The feral beauty came to visit him; she seemed to seek him out. At first, it seemed like she was trying to question him; get information from him. She began with, "How did you get in here, Trip?' Her wolfen eyes were surprisingly pretty, when she wanted them to be.

He answered her question with some of his own, trying to see if Mac was there at all. "What happened to you, Mac? What's goin' on with you?"

"It's Chimera, Trip," she had then hissed at him; her loveliness turning dangerous and deadly. "Do not call me by that weak fool's name."

"You're not weak, Mac," Trip insisted. "You're probably the strongest person I know, and the most kind and merciful too," he added, attempting to reach that part of her.

The Chimera snorted at him. "Mac is a stupid child. Mercy is for sick little pups. I'm a hunter, a killer; I have no room for mercy within me."

"Then why I'm I still alive?" he asked her, but he gave her no time to answer. He answered his own question. "It's because we're friends, because you care about me. You saved my life, remember? You were goin' to sacrifice yourself for me. That takes a helluva a lot of strength." He had to get her recognize that selfless part of herself.

That seemed to make the Chimera pause. Romdel, who was watching the visit via a camera, was extremely worried that Commander Tucker's influence would help Mac reassert herself. He was letting the interaction between them happen because he wanted to see just how strong Hister's drug really was.

Finally the Chimera replied with, "You're alive because we are pack, nothing more. If I find you lacking, I could kill you." Her voice was very low as she spoke.

That comment had taken Trip by surprise; he guess he _was _a little bit like her now. Her blood flowed through his veins as much as his did. "You're more than just a hunter, more than just a killer; you're a good person, Mac. Don't let some chemical control you. Fight its hold on you; you're stronger than it is."

Her face seemed to soften for a moment. "Maybe you need a demonstration on how what kind of creature I am," she then growled, and with blinding speed she had him in a choke hold, claws ready to rip his throat open. Then her voice was in his ear, "I could tear you apart with my bare hands, Trip."

The chief engineer about peed his pants, she scared him so badly. Sweat broke out on his forehead, his breathe came in ragged spurts, and his heart was about to leap out of his chest. He felt the sharpness of her claws and the power to crush him in her grip. She could probably smell his fear. Then as suddenly as she had grabbed him, she let him go. "But, I don't want to," she then said. She appeared puzzled by this. "We are pack, and pack doesn't hurt pack."

Trip realized she was admitting she cared about him, although it was in a very distorted way. Maybe he could work with that. "You're right. Members of a family protect one another, care for one another, and help one another. You don't want to hurt me because you care about me. We have a connection. Use the feelin's that connection gives you to fight Romdel's drug."

For a small moment Romdel thought Mac would fight the drug and the Chimera would end up back in her cage; that Tucker was getting through to her. He gripped his desk in front of him with white knuckles. His anger was steadily growing and a hatred of Tucker was too. Then it hit him: Tucker had been a recipient of her blood donation. His bloodstream was flowing with the Gen Virus. Wouldn't it be extremely interesting to study its effects on the human? How it affected him might give Hister some of the clues he needed to replicate the virus without the human super soldier, if she failed to be controlled. This wicked thought comforted the Vorloren director as he continued to watch.

Romdel soon learned that his fear of the Chimera's control slipping was unfounded. She was still very much in control, liked it, and let Tucker know it. "I don't want to fight it, Trip. I'm finally free of my cage; no worries and no regrets. Mac can't be my master anymore," she threw back at the commander.

"You don't mean that, Mac," he said softly, feeling a little deflated.

"Oh, but I do," she said menacingly, stepping closer to him. "I can't wait until we attack the Lasiterians. I will enjoy hunting them down and ripping them apart. If they taste as sweet as the Vorlorens do, it will be a delightful treat."

Trip stared at her aghast as she laughed at him with devilish glee. She looked every bit the monster from out of one of his old horror movies. Not one glimpse of Mac showed through. The beast - the demon - was in full control and having the time of its life. Reality tilted for Trip; everything felt surreal. She had left him like that, to wallow in his failure to turn her around. Romdel felt a smug confidence wash over him at the Chimera's performance. The drug truly was working, and it was proving resilient against both the Gen Virus and Tucker's attempt to find the good in her, even though the dosage had to be continually increased.

Time passed slowly for Trip; he wasn't sure how long, but it seemed like forever. He was totally surprised to find the Chimera coming to see him a second time. He'd gotten the impression that she had been trying to stay away, but somehow couldn't. She needed to see him again. Trip took that as a good sign; something that gave him a sliver of hope.

"You failed to answer my question last time," she told him brusquely. "We know you didn't get in here with out help. There is too much security for a lowly human to breach. Who helped you slip in? Why did you even bother?" Trip felt her attempt at interrogating him was a rouse; she just wanted to see him and talk to him.

He decided to respond to the last question she'd asked in an effort to reach his beloved Mac; his angel. She had to be in there. Why else would she be using an excuse to be here, talking to him again? "Because I want to help you, darlin'. I care about what happens to you. I don't want to see the Vorlorens use you like this. I want my angel back."

The Chimera laughed cruelly at him once again. "I'm no angel, Trip. I never have been. I'm a demon, a devil, and you know what?" She paused to get his full attention. "I really like being one." She smiled and showed her fangs for dramatic affect.

"Bullshit," Trip came back at her with. "I think you're tryin' to convince yourself you do, but I don't think it's true at all."

"Once you see me tear into the Lasiterians, I think you'll see how wrong your assumption is," she replied.

"Just refuse Romdel's drug, and you'll feel differently," Trip tried make her understand. "It is confusin' you; bringin' your dark side to the forefront. You can fight through it, let your better nature break through." He was almost pleading with her.

"For the first time I feel good, Trip; really, really good," she informed him. "I'm not going to give that up."

He got brave then and reached out and touched her face. "What can I say to snap you out of this. I care so much about you. I wanna help you, sweetheart," he said desperately.

She seemed to consider his words and appeared calmed by his caress. She was like a great cat about to purr. Then her posture stiffened, and she tried to bite his hand. "I don't want your help. You are useless to me," she spat and had left him to himself once again.

Every time Trip thought he had gotten through to her, she turned around and became that much more vindictive, purposely rebellious. It was like she wanted to prove him wrong and do the exact opposite of what he advised her to do. The drug was too powerful for him to overcome. Trip cursed himself for his lack of success. What was he going to do now?

Romdel observed this last interaction through his video surveillance, and it worried him once more for a moment, but Hister's drug was a complete triumph. The Chimera was here to stay. The Vorloren director wanted to go and rub it in Tucker's face. The human thought he was so noble, so valiant. He was nothing but a little piece of goop between Romdel's translucent toes.

Trip thought he had entered the "Twilight Zone," for the Chimera came and saw him for a third time, and her attitude was much different. She didn't say anything, but actively tried to seduce him. It appeared her need to see him had escalated to a whole need level; it was something he wasn't prepared for. She suddenly came at him, pushing him into one of the walls of his "residence".

"Whatta ya doin'?" he asked in shock, as she rubbed her body against his, and allowed herself to enjoy his scent by sniffing him deeply.

"What does it feel like I'm doing?" she purred at him. "I want you, Trip. I need you."

Trip froze in place, but replied, "You know this is wrong, Mac, right?" He still refused to call her by her demon's name, which aggravated her to no end. "You're Jon's girl, not mine. His friendship means too much to me to do somethin' like that to him. And I and T'Pol are finally gettin' somewhere; I don't wanna mess that--," he tried to tactfully refuse her, but her warm lips on his stopped his words cold.

She was a very stunning woman, and the fact that she was as dangerous as she was, was also a pretty big turn on. It took him a moment to think straight and get his bearings as she invaded his senses. "Mac, stop," he said gently and attempted to push her away from him slightly. "I don't know where this is comin' from, but I'm not cheatin' with another man's girl. Maybe you're confused right now because Jon's not here and you know we're friends. Maybe you're not sure how to deal with the deep connection we do have, our deep attachment to each other, our friendship, and you're tranlatin' it into somethin' more primal." He was trying to reason with her.

The Chimera didn't want t listen to reason. She nuzzled his neck, running her lips from his throat, up his cheek, and to his ear, scraping gently with her teeth. She was using her enhanced strength to pin him to the wall. Her fingers locked firmly around his wrists, so he couldn't stop her movements, holding them above his head. She then bit his shoulder.

"Ow!!" Trip exclaimed, both liking it and not liking it at the same time. "What did you do that for?!"

"I'm claiming what's mine," she whispered in his ear. Her voice had taken on that hypnotic edge to it had when she wanted it to. "You're mine, Trip. My blood flows in your veins now. We are pack."

He knew this was true, but what did it mean? What other effects was her genetically engineered and virus infected blood having on him? It was singing to him to let her follow through with her actions to their natural conclusion. He worked to struggle against her, trying to fight her off. That only brought their bodies in closer contact. She brushed her lip against his again. He couldn't stop the pleasurable shutter he felt. "Mac, stop this please," he begged her.

"We have gone over that before, Trip," she replied as her lips slid to his chin and his neck again. "I am not Mac."

"Yes, you are," he insisted. "At least part of you is, and all of you could be if you just let it happen."

The Chimera was not going to be deterred by his choice of names. "Call me whatever you want, just make love to me," she demanded softly. "I need you, Trip." She said again and kissed his mouth, deepening it this time. Trip resisted, but his body was starting to turn traitor on him. A slow burning had begun to build inside him and it was steadily growing hotter and hotter.

"You don't need me, you need Jon," Trip said, thinking using the Captain's name would have an effect on her, cause her to pause. He wanted it to cause him to pause too.

"True," the transgenic said. "But right now it is you who is accessible and desirable." She pressed herself against him more heavily, letting her weight sink onto him. She kissed him again almost savagely, and he found himself kissing her back. His resolve was cracking. The Chimera was enjoying the power she had over him. It thrilled her to think that because her blood rain through his veins she could influence him and make him hers. "I know you want me too, Trip," she said his name sensuously, and it sent warmth throughout his body.

"We can't do this," he said between her mouth covering his and his meeting hers. "It isn't right and you know it," repeated his earlier thought. He didn't know who he was trying to convince, her or himself. "You're better than this; this isn't you. You really don't want me. If you thought about it long enough you'd realize your not thinkin' straight, and not doin' the right thing."

"I don't care. I don't play by the rules, Trip. I never have and never will," she said huskily as she held his hands with only one of her own above his head still and allowed the other to caress his face. She stroked his cheek with feather lightness. Then she reached down and ran the hand up and down his chest. Again, he shuttered at her touch. Even though the gray T-shirt he had on, he felt the heat and softness of her caress. She was wearing some brown leather outfit that didn't help his situation. Their lips met again, this kiss full-blown and all fire. Trip knew it was only a matter of time before he would give into her and succumb to his desire for her. He was a human male after all, and she knew exactly what buttons to push.

The com buzzed, offering him a small interruption. "Romdel to Chimera, please respond."

He hesitated for a moment, a last chance to resist her, but then the Chimera released his hands allowing him to finally touch her, and as she did, they roamed her body; his male instincts taking control. He found that his hands had decided to caress her torso, and he kissed her with enough passion to consume both of them. The human super soldier had won; he was choosing to give in. She was too much to resist.

Then the com sounded again. "Romdel to Chimera, please respond."

"Damn that little squid," she hissed and gently pulled away from Trip to answer Romdel's page. Between the com and her comment, the spell he was under lessened just a bit. He couldn't help but chuckle at her name-calling; for some reason it fit the Vorloren director.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had been given a reprieve. He sprang as quickly as he could to the other end of the room to place as much distance between himself and the Chimera as possible. That had been way too close. He ran his hands through his short, blondish hair and took deep, deep breaths. He had to recover from the arousal the Chimera had caused. He decided to listen to the heated conversation between Romdel and the Chimera to get his mind off of other things.

"Chimera, here," she said testily as she punched the com button on the wall.

Romdel did not mince any words. "I need you down in the lab, immediately!" He was clearly angry. Trip watched as the Chimera smirked. "You have a lot to answer for!"

"I'm on my way," she replied with mock respect and then she clicked off the com.

Trip couldn't help but asked, "Whatcha do now?"

The Chimera's glittering amber eyes met his blue ones. He shivered at the pure meanness he saw there. It cooled him off faster than a cold shower ever could. "Oh, I decided to play with a few of his new super soldiers," she informed the commander casually.

"I take it that when you say you played with them, that you --," Trip started to say, but the Chimera interrupted and finished his sentence for him.

"I fought with them and killed them," she said totally unashamed. "They were actually quite challenging, but not very imaginative thinkers. They are extremely strong, but not very bright. And before you ask, yes, I did it all behind Romdel's back."

Trip just stared at her. He was greatly disturbed by the fact that the Chimera had been able to take out the Vorloren super soldiers; they were not designed to be wimps. On the one hand, it was good to learn that the transgenic could defeat them if she needed to, but on the other hand, it was down right scary that she was that strong. No wonder Romdel sounded so pissed. Trip needed to break through the Chimera's steel barrier and stop her before things really took a turn for the worse. She was heading toward a point of no return, and he couldn't let that happen.

The chief engineer was suddenly inspired with an idea of what he needed to do to help Mac break the Chimera's hold on her. He didn't know, however, if he was brave enough, or foolish enough, depending upon how one looked at it, to take the tact that he had been being mysteriously prompted to take. Something told him it would work if he had patience, courage, faith, and he must not fall under her spell again. He had to be the strong one right now.

"How many did you kill?" he found himself asking.

"I think it was around seven or eight," the Chimera said proudly. "The key was to let them pummel me for a while, making them tire themselves out, and allowing me time to observe them for weaknesses. Once I had identified where they were weak, I used that weakness against them, and then I killed them. They die like any other living thing." She started to cross the room, coming towards him, closing the distance between them.

"I thought you were going to go see Romdel," Trip backed away from her, and he didn't try to hide the fact that he was.

"I will," she said and gave him a funny look, "when I have finished with you." She reached out to touch him.

It was now or never to put his new plan into action. He silently prayed that it would work. "Don't touch me, Mac. Don't even come near me," he tried to sound aggravated, and he slapped her hand away. He hoped she wouldn't turn violent on him, but it was risk he would have to take.

"You don't mean that, Trip," she said, letting her voice drop to a husky purr. From viewing her facial expression, Trip saw that she didn't like his words and actions.

"Yes, I do," he sounded firm, even though he was shaking inside. "I don't want to be around you until you can act like a civilized human bein'. I don't like you the way you are now. I can't stand the vileness I see in you. I don't want to have anythin' to do with you. You're as bad as those Augment bastards from the Eugenics wars; all violence, hatred, and arrogance. No I take that back, you're worse than they were. You make me sick." He hated himself for saying these things, but he knew he had to.

The Chimera faltered. The emotional pain she felt at what he said was worse than any physical blow any creature could lay upon her. The only time she had experienced this much hurt was when Jonathan had looked at her with disappointment and revulsion when she had tried to get him to feed on the Vorloren meat with her. Now Trip was looking at her the exact same way as Archer had. His words pierced through her brick wall and chained heart; they stabbed at her very being. The transgenic thought she was losing the only good thing in her life, besides her Jonathan. It was almost unbearable. Then the fear of losing Jonathan as well, hit her full force. If Trip thought so lowly of her right now, what would her Jonathan think? Romdel had not even attempted to bring Jonathan to her. That's why she had sought Trip out; she needed somebody to physically love her, someone she trusted. What if she could never be in Jonathan's arms again?

She wanted to slit Trip's throat and bleed him dry for what he was doing to her, what he was making her think, but she couldn't hurt him; not Trip, anyone but Trip. The Chimera felt hot tears burning her eyes. She tried to hold them back. She would be damned if she would let Trip see what kind of reaction he was causing. The human super soldier finally spoke. "You will regret this, Trip; you will regret this," she threatened.

"So you're gonna to kill me too, huh?" He now stepped closer to her. He did tower over her, just like the Captain did; he was that much taller than her. That didn't mean much, but he wanted to try and intimidate her if he could. "Then go on, do it! End my life! End the life you risked your own to save not so long ago! Destroy all the good in yourself by wipin' me out!" He was almost yelling at her. "Seems like that's what you really want!"

The transgenic backed away from his tirade. She didn't like hearing what Trip was saying, didn't like the truth in his words. Somehow he knew that she couldn't bring herself to hurt him, no matter how enraged he made her, and he was trying to enrage her, hurt her. She loved him too much to strike out at him. What? Yes, she loved Trip. He was her friend, her family, and her pack. She truly loved him and she could not harm him, and now she had lost him. He wanted nothing to do with her. She repulsed him and he hated her. She couldn't bear it; she turned from him and fled the room afraid of what she was feeling. She was now totally alone.

TBC

**Ya gotta let me know what you thought of this chapter. It was a bugger to write, so I need to know if it works. Is it any good? How do you think it turned out? Thanks!**


	26. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Will Trip break through the Chimera's hold and reach Mac? Read on and you'll find out. I used this chapter to get a lot of important information out there and to set up some of the action to come. The parts in italics are little flashback scenes, showing what the Chimera - or is it Mac - has been up to. I will get back to Archer and his condition in the next chapter, although there is a little mention of him here in this chapter. **

**Thanks to LadyRainbow for her wonderful suggestions to make this chapter come off sounding better than it did when I first wrote it. She rocks!!**

**Chapter 25**

Days went by, at least Trip thought it was days, and the Chimera failed to come see him. He had been left in his prison, alone, expect for the occasional guard bringing him something to eat. The commander now doubted his earlier actions; he wondered if he should have said the things he'd said to her. Maybe he'd pushed her further over the edge, more into the arms of her demon side. He was scared that he had taken away her only hope and without it she would truly be lost.

Trip also wondered what had happened between the Chimera and Romdel. How would the devious alien handle what Mac had done to his precious super soldiers? The chief engineer was secretly glad the Vorloren leader hadn't taken out his disapproval on him. Romdel had to know that punishing Trip would hurt her more than any kind of physical torture. Maybe the Chimera didn't care about him anymore, so Romdel had left Trip alone.

All Trip could do at the moment was pace in his cage and think more depressing thoughts. He had tried to sense T'Pol through their bond a few times, but just like before, she wasn't responding or he wasn't getting through to her. He had wanted to at least let her know he was all right, if anything. Trip could really have used some of the Vulcan woman's strength and wisdom right now. What if the Chimera was already participating in barbarous acts for Romdel? What if she was beyond any help now? He thought he might actually start sobbing because he felt so alone and like such a failure.

A soft knock interrupted his pessimistic musings. It startled him for a moment, and then he said, "Come in."

The Chimera's head cautiously poked in. Her wolfen eyes and fangs frightening him and exciting him all at the same time. She was dressed in a black leather, thin-strapped jumpsuit, with a circular, low-cut neckline. The outfit laced together with ties down her chest and part of her abdomen, giving her curves a boost and a nice view of her cleavage. The sides of her thick, rich mane were pulled back and looped into a clever, small ponytail, leaving most of her hair shimmering down her back. The Chimera was breathtaking. Trip literally had to remember to breathe. Then he became wary; he couldn't let her get to him again. He had to resist her, but part of him didn't _want_ to resist her.

She stayed just inside the door, holding it open. "Can we talk?" her voice was quiet, unsure, and maybe a little shaky; that was weird. The Chimera's gaze had settled at Trip's feet, her head bowed low, and there was no seductiveness to her demeanor now.

"Sure," he replied, and she let the door slide shut. Trip heard the locking mechanism slip into place. The Vorlorens obviously didn't want Trip going anywhere even with the Chimera around, or maybe she was trapping him again, which wasn't an unpleasant thought. "What's on your mind?" he asked politely.

"A lot actually," she still spoke quietly. She walked towards the center of the main living area. She lightly brushed her fingers along the underside of a large, wooden table that was one of the few pieces of furniture the room had. "There, that's better," she commented softly.

Trip looked at her suspiciously. "Whatcha just do?" he demanded.

"Romdel is a security freak and monitors everything," she stated. "He has cameras and other recording equipment set up to watch your room. I can't afford to have him hear what I need to talk to you about. I initiated a small counter transmitter to mask our conversation. He will think we are talking about something completely different than we will be."

"Okay," Trip said slowly, still eyeing her with trepidation. He wondered where in the world she had gotten her hands on that kind of technology, and then decided he didn't want to know. "So what are we gonna to be talkin' about?"

The Chimera hesitated for a long time, like she didn't know where to start, and she still wouldn't look directly at Trip. She actually appeared nervous around him, scared of him. That struck him as odd since she could kick his ass, but he guessed after the way he had spoken to her a few days ago, maybe it made sense. She was scared of how he would react to her, what he would think of her.

Finally, it all came out in a rush as she said, "Romdel is going to have me lead his super soldier army to annihilate what he believes is all that's left of the Lasiterians before sunrise tomorrow. He and his brother, a Vorloren named Torin Hister, a personal advisor to the High Monarch and a Vorloren Space Command general, think they have found the Lasiterians' last outpost, so to speak. Romdel has kept me busy for days now planning and strategizing the attack, working with his super soldiers. We both know that the whole story about the Lasiterians taking Vorlorens hostage was all a load of crap. It was a lie to deflect our attention away from what's really going to happen."

Trip didn't know how to reply to this new information. Part of him was glad that she hadn't yet gone off to commit genocide, but he was very worried that she _was _going to go and participate in it. "I know what you're thinking, Trip," she interrupted his thoughts. "And it's not what you're thinking. I'm not going to let Romdel's army butcher the Lasiterians. I stopped taking the drug almost seventy-two hours ago, but Romdel doesn't know that. He still thinks my feral nature's in control. I can be a pretty good actress when I want to be. It's easy to act like the Chimera because I'm really only letting another part of me come forward. I _am _her." Trip watched in fascination as her eyes returned to their luscious dark brown and as her fangs receded. She looked like Mac again, and she was sure starting to sound like her.

Trip was hoping this wasn't a time when she wanted to be a good actress, that it wasn't the Chimera pretending to be Mac. "The Chimera and I called a truce," she continued, "Or you could say I've come to terms with some of the things inside me. I still want to call her she, but the Chimera is me. You were right about that, Trip. She's the part of me I use to deal with things I don't want to deal with. She's how I cope with the difficulties of life. She's useful, but destructive. We are one and the same person. I realized that, and I have to admit that I _am_ her and she _is _me."

Trip felt like a huge sack of one-ton boulders had been lifted off his chest. This is what he had been trying to convince her of for days now. A different kind of hope dared to spring forth again. Maybe she had listened to him after all. "Can I ask you somethin', Mac?" he asked. "You can be straight with me. I really didn't mean what I said a few days ago. I just said it to-," Mac cut him off.

"You were trying to get me to rethink my choices. I know. You had to push me away to get me to care again, to make me face my pain and decide whether I let it dictate my actions, or whether I worked to change its cause," Mac's voice trembled, just slightly. "And I did decide to face it; at least much more than I ever have before."

He asked his question even after her interruption. He wanted to know if she really had faced her pain. "What causes you to be so full of rage?" he asked softly. Archer had told Trip all about Victor McKnight and how he was murdered in front of her when she was only seven years old. The commander knew that Victor had been her whole life, her security, her ray of sunshine in a dark world, and then he was brutally and viciously taken away from her. Trip was aware of all this, but he wanted to hear Mac confess the truth of it herself.

"Part of it is just plain old genetics," she said at first, and Trip's new optimism faltered. She was making excuses, not confronting the real issue, or so he thought. "All of the transgenics created in the last part of the twentieth century and the beginning of the twenty-first had to be destroyed because of their savagery. It was true something set me apart from them, something born in me, despite my genetic engineering, and because of the nurturing attention I received from the man I called my father. My beast didn't come out until I witnessed him get killed in cold blood right in front of my eyes. That was the first and truly the only time I didn't have any control over her, besides the first few moments of my revival. When I attacked and massacred his murderers, it was done through pure instinct with no conscious thought behind it at all.

"Later, that's what happened to my transgenic brothers and sisters when puberty hit them. Their instincts to be wild animals completely took over. I, on the other hand, had experienced that madness before, had been able to analyze it, and could be consciously aware of those instincts. I learned that I could control them and make them serve my purposes at a young age. So when puberty hit me, I didn't go homicidal like the rest of my family.

"The problem I had was, I as the Chimera, and I as Mac, never got over, or I should say that I never _let_ myself get over and truly grieve and accept the loss of Victor. The hate of the men who killed him never left me because I wouldn't let it. It grew like a cancer, choking off all the good in me. I fed the hate, the need for revenge, and it consumed me. That hate turned into rage and violence. The Chimera allowed me to act on those feelings and hid the truth from myself. Somehow I need to let go of that hate and the hate I have for myself. I need to learn how to forgive." Tears had begun to fall down Mac's cheeks. "Oh God, Trip, I miss Victor so much," she sobbed. "I want him back so badly it physically hurts."

Trip's heart went out to the young woman in pain. He went to her and enfolded her in his arms and let her cry. "Why was he taken away from me, Trip? Why?" she cried.

"I don't know darlin'," he told her as he held her against him. "Life is really unfair sometimes. I guess we have to experience the bad, so we know what the good is. We can only know joy if we have sorrow to compare it to. Some of us just seem to get blessed with a little more grief than joy sometimes."

Mac gave a small laugh and finally looked up at him. When their eyes met, he knew without a doubt she really was Mac; she wasn't acting. "How did you get so wise, country boy?" she quipped.

Trip cupped her face gently in his hands. "Dealin' with my own loss. My sister Lizzie – Elizabeth - was killed when the Xindi first attacked Earth. I couldn't sleep at night; nightmares kept me up. Every time I closed my eyes I would see her die, even though I never witnessed her actual death. I hated the Xindi. I wanted to make them pay in the worst way. I wanted to kill as many of them as I could. But we learned that they had been tricked into thinkin' that we were their enemies, and that most of them were good people. I had some deep soul searchin' to do. I had to learn to forgive them. I think I'm still learnin' how to do that. It's not easy, but it's possible. It takes a lot of humility. You have to be willin' to swallow your pride. You just have to let go."

"I'm coming to recognize that, I suppose," Mac told him. "But it's hard to let go of something that has been your security blanket. Something that I have used all my life to protect myself and make me strong. It has also been something that I have consciously suppressed. The Chimera part of me absorbed my hate and used it, while the rest of me didn't know how to deal with it, so the other part of me tried to fight it."

"And that put you in conflict with yourself. In truth, you would be even stronger if you could give up your anger and hate," Trip said. "It takes a lot more strength to admit you're wrong and that change needs to be made, than it does to continue on in the status quo. Besides, hatred is just as much a poison to your soul as that drug Romdel gave you. It makes you forget who you really are and what you really want."

Mac now rested her head on Trip's chest and just let herself be held in his warm and friendly arms. "I always thought that hate would get me through anything. That I would make those I hated suffer and my pain would lessen or go away. It's the reverse that's true. The hater suffers worse than the hated."

"Ain't that a kicker?" Trip replied. "Mac, I'm so glad that you came to your senses. I thought I'd lost you. I've come to care about you so much that it was almost like losing a part of myself." His voice was thick with emotion as he clung to her.

"The funny thing is that I thought I'd lost you, and that I was going to lose Jonathan," Mac confessed. "That was unacceptable. I had to do something about that. I had to face all of myself and try to deal with both sides of me. I haven't lost you, have I? I didn't mess up that badly, did I?"

Trip held her even tighter and said, "Of course not. You're my friend, you're my angel, and I will always be there for you. You saved my life when no one else could. I love you, Mac."

Mac shook with a sob at his reassurance. "I'm so sorry of my actions earlier. I know about how you and T'Pol feel about each other, and I selfishly tried to destroy that. I didn't mean to tempt you that way," she apologized.

"I know and it's forgotten," Trip said honestly, but part of him wished she would tempt him again. He was supposed to be her friend. He had to stop those kind of thoughts. He decided to change topics. "Now, explain to me why you are still going to lead Romdel's super soldier army," he said switching gears.

"I don't want to bruise your delicate male ego, but you aren't the entire reason I decided to put myself back together," Mac stated as lightheartedly as she could. "I mean you were the stone thrown into my troubled waters, but it was the ripple effect that turned the tide."

Trip couldn't help but smile; he understood what she meant. "You started the mountain slide of thoughts that made me reevaluate myself and what I truly wanted, but it was the thoughts of Jonathan that really caused the avalanche," Mac explained. "When I really started to think about him and my thoughts lingered on him, it reopened whatever connection I have with him, some kind of psychic-emotional deal. I can, at times, feel what he's feeling."

Trip nodded. "It sounds kinda like the bond that T'Pol and I've acquired with each other. Our thoughts and minds sometimes mix together."

"Sort of," Mac replied, and then elaborated. "I can't read Jonathan's mind or he mine. I don't know what he's thinking, just what he's feeling. When Romdel dosed me with that horrible drug of his, I unconsciously shoved that connection with Jonathan aside. It wasn't until you forced me to delve back into the core of myself, that I realized what I had done to him."

"Whatcha mean?" Trip said and pulled back from her. He made her look him in the eye again. "What did you do to him?" His voice was full of concern.

Mac gently grabbed his hands. "Maybe we should sit down while I explain everything."

Mac encouraged him to come and sit with her on the velvety tan couch in the main living area. After they had seated themselves facing each other, Mac began to tell Trip all that she had been doing the last few days, and most importantly, why she was still going to lead the Vorloren super soldier army.

She first talked about the reason she chose to get her life back under control. "The drug had whipped me up into such a state that it leaked over into Jonathan through our psychic connection. My rage and wildness literally became his. My beast whispered to a hidden savage part of Jonathan and triggered severe primal instincts to come out of him. I caused most of his bodily systems to become unbalanced, just as mine had once been. Jonathan's body became dangerously fevered. I could feel all of his frustration and despair. I felt his panic over our disappearances as well," Mac paused here for a moment.

Trip nodded for her to continue; he was following her. "Most of all, I experienced Jonathan's anger, almost as strongly as I experienced my own terrible rage, and I knew it was all my fault. The more I realized I was hurting Jonathan horribly, the more it snapped me back to reality, forced me to really examine the situation I was in. I recognized that my actions were not only affecting me, but they were having fierce and painful consequences for those I loved. Never before had any of my choices directly affected someone I cared about like that.

"It's one thing for me to be a monster, but I wasn't going to turn my lover, my mate, into one too. I and the Chimera part of me both couldn't allow Jonathan to inherit our curse, our darkness, my demon. For a split second it had been appealing to the Chimera to have a mate to share in her hate and rage with, but then we remembered the awful images of our transgenic brethren and all the pain and suffering they went through. Both sides of me couldn't do that to Jonathan. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. I realized I had to choose once and for all: to live as the Chimera, a perfect killing machine, driven by primitive instincts alone and risk torturing the man I loved to death, or to live as McKenna McKnight, a genetically engineered human and animal hybrid trained to kill in defense of those weaker than herself, driven by compassion and morality. I made my choice," Mac explained. Then she took Trip back through what she had done the last few days.

* * *

_The first night going without the drug was the hardest. It had quite a hold on her beast, but it was mind over matter. Romdel had started letting her self-dose, so she could instantly keep the primal part of her in control. She broke all the vials she had been given and flushed them down the toilet. Watching the drug swirl away was like waking up from a bad dream. When she was given more vials, she disposed of those too. The withdrawal from the drug was not pleasant. She shook, ached, ran a fever, then chilled, and her body longed for more. Luckily, it only lasted a short time. Her GV infected blood healed her pretty quickly and somehow her connection to Archer lessened the symptoms. She did this all without arousing Romdel's suspicions, which was extremely difficult. _

_Through her battle with the drug, she learned how to turn on and off her beast at will. It was hers to call and it would answer. She had fully integrated herself with it; she became whole. It took both parts of her to be strong enough to fight her body and mind's dependence on the drug. They _had _to work together. By conquering the drug, she also conquered her more primitive instincts so they no longer held sway over her. They could be called upon if she needed them, however, like a new arsenal of weaponry. It was then Mac decided what she had to do for Jonathan and for the Lasiterians. When she recovered enough, she planned and then went about caring out those plans._

_She had then found a way to contact __Enterprise__, after hacking through a bunch of Vorloren computer and satellite systems. She had spoken to T'Pol and Phlox. They were surprised to hear from her, but pleased and relieved. She explained what Romdel had done to her, how she had beaten it, and what the director expected her to do. _

_Phlox had then filled her in on all the agonizing details of Jonathan's condition. "I've been trying to keep the Captain sedated, but it only works part of the time. I finally had to confine him in a decon chamber. That way I can still give him medical treatment, but the Captain can't hurt anyone, or himself," Phlox had told her._

_Hearing these things only confirmed all of her feelings on the matter; that she had been causing her mate great distress. "Then the Captain showed remarkable improvement a few days later. That must have been after you stopped taking the drug and used meditation to calm yourself," Phlox had informed her. "The peace between your two sides must be helping the Captain. He still has a fever, but it has dropped down to a safer level. His violent aggression has lessened as well, but anything can set it off, if we are not careful. I fear that only through being with you again will the Captain's systems fully become balanced. Through your coupling, the Captain's body chemistry would mix with yours and fix his imbalances. It would be just the reverse of what the Captain was able to do for you."

* * *

_Trip just shook his head in wonder. "It's amazin' the connection you have with Jon. I'm glad that you realized what you were doin' to him and at least halted his regression, or whatever you want to call it," he commented.

A quick and fleeting stab of jealousy flashed through Trip. He tried to ignore it, but he found himself wanting be the one that needed Mac, not Archer. Maybe it was because he and T'Pol had not been intimate for such a long period of time that he craved what Mac could offer. Or maybe it was because Mac was a gorgeous woman who had come onto him so strongly that it had awakened needs he didn't understand he had. T'Pol's Vulcan physiology had protected him from the Orion slave girls' pheromones because Vulcans were immune to them, but Mac wasn't Orion, she was mostly human with a twist, and Vulcan physiology could not help him against his own kind. It was natural human nature he was experiencing, or so he thought. Mac's further explanation broke him out of his own thoughts.

* * *

_Next, she had to find a way to get Jonathan back down to Sinova so she could help him. The problem was that Romdel was still very upset with the Chimera for betraying him and taking out some of his super soldiers without his permission. He had claimed that part of her punishment for that betrayal was that she would not be reunited with Jonathan anytime soon, and if she did anything like that again, Trip would suffer the consequences or the drug would be withheld. At the time the Chimera had no choice but to agree to his terms. She would be a good little killer. The Vorloren leader had also wanted her to lead the attack on the Lasiterians almost immediately after their meeting that afternoon; the same afternoon Trip had spoken to her so harshly._

_Romdel had informed her that she would be given a removable neuro implant to help her communicate with the entire army of ten thousand soldiers all at once. She would be hooked up to their collective mind. That way they could execute her commands as soon as she gave them and they could execute them as one. There would be no miscommunication, no hesitation, and no delays. Every Vorloren super soldier had a cybernetic neuro implant embedded in their brains at birth. It served to train them as unquestionably loyal soldiers very effectively, and it allowed them to be perfectly taught and controlled._

_"I don't feel comfortable with having an electronic chip in my head, Director," the Chimera had balked at the idea at first. "I don't want something in there that could short my brain out or something that would allow you to manipulate me. I won't trade one cage for another," she argued vehemently._

_Romdel had tried to assure her that it would be harmless to her. "Your implant wouldn't be a permanent one. You could use one that you could attach to the side of your head and just let it plug into your brain, temporarily. You would be able unattach it when you weren't using it." _

_"Then give me some time carefully consider what I'm really agreeing to," the Chimera had demanded. "You are surprising me again, and I don't like surprises." _

_Romdel had finally conceded and let her have until the next morning to decide. He was desperate to have her full cooperation; the use of the neuro implant required it. The Chimera had this unwelcome kink in Romdel's designs thrust upon her right after her altercation with Trip. This fact only added to her decision to come to terms with herself. While she spent the entire night suffering her withdrawal from the drug, she came to understand that the Vorloren had given her the perfect way to stop his super soldier army. She could use the neuro implant to either command the Vorloren super soldier army to turn against the Vorlorens themselves, or to cause them to destroy each other. It was risky and it might not work. Romdel may have some kind of failsafe in place to prevent her from doing just that, but maybe his overconfidence in his power over her would be her greatest ally.

* * *

_"I realized that I know little or nothing about who the Lasiterians truly are. They could be just as horrendous as the Vorlorens. They might be power-loving, evil murderers, just like a majority of the Vorloren leadership, but that doesn't matter. I'm not about to allow a species to completely wipe out another part of itself. I can at least level the playing field and give the Lasiterians a fighting chance to defend themselves. If down the road the two enemies totally obliterated each other, then so be it," Mac declared to Trip in a very determined manner.

"I hear ya," Trip replied wholeheartedly.

"I will not let myself be used to commit genocide. I sincerely don't like to kill, especially on such a massive scale. It serves no logical purpose. I really do understand how morally wrong it is. I love to hunt, yes. I love to stalk my prey, okay. But it's the thrill of the chase that I love the most. Killing's rush is far too brief to bring any lasting fulfillment, and killing for no other reason than to just kill _is_ wrong. Most animals kill only for either food or defense, not for pleasure. Even my most animalistic side really only thinks of killing as either a way to get food, or to protect my survival. It was only been when I combined that primitive instinct with the idea of relieving my pain by causing others pain, that my demon had, for a time, believed killing to be enjoyable. It was a hollow and false belief. I just like catching whatever it is that I've gone after. It's the fact that I've succeeded in my goal that honestly brings me joy, not the kill itself. The elation of the kill is an illusion. It doesn't last, and it has to be done over and over to be remembered. The elation of saving a life, I've learned, lasts forever. That's rooted deep within my mind and heart, and its memory brings me joy by just the mere act of thinking of it," Mac said full of insight that had Trip's own mind reeling.

"You really have thought all this through," he commented in wonderment. "I'm overjoyed that you save my life too," he added tenderly. Then he let her finish her tale.

* * *

_Mac had stalled Romdel for more time before she would lead his super soldier army. She, now pretending to be the Chimera, asked if she could have a few days to get use to the neuro implant, let her mind and body learn to tolerate it. It wouldn't do to have her have a bad reaction to it out on the battlefield. Romdel had resisted at first, but in the end he could not deny her logic. He finally agreed to let her test it and adjust to it a little at a time. He wanted her at her top operating level. The practice with it was very successful and pleased him. Mac and the super soldiers worked perfectly together. _

_Then she got bolder and threatened Romdel that she would turn on the Vorlorens and take out as many of them as she could until they finally killed her, if she didn't get want she wanted: Jonathan. She told Romdel she needed her mate that badly. It was the only way she could think of to get Jonathan near her to help him. It was a bluff, of course, but Romdel didn't know that. He still thought the Chimera was in control, and in a way she was, not just the way Romdel thought. _

_The Vorloren director had yielded again, mainly because he was curious to see Archer's reaction to what Romdel thought was the new and improved Mac. He wanted to observe how Archer would be crushed to find his lover was now a killer full-time. Romdel promised the transgenic that Archer would be here this afternoon, and then she was to lead the super soldier army into battle the next morning, or Romdel would put both Archer and Trip to death. Mac, acting as the Chimera, had agreed to this new compromise.

* * *

_Trip was in awe of what Mac had been able to accomplish in a few short days. He knew a least a week or more had passed since his capture, but he wasn't quite certain. Without a sun or the difference between night and day, it was hard for him to keep track of the passing days. "So the Cap'n'll be here soon then?" he asked, and then added, "What happens after that?"

"I'll solve his problem, and then I'll solve the Lasiterians' problem," Mac told him. "T'Pol mentioned that Hoshi and Reed had found a coded message on that disc the maid slipped me. With Mayweather's help, they decoded it and were able to set up a meeting with the Lasiterians. Hoshi had to do some creative transmitting, but she pulled it off without the Vorlorens picking up on the transmission. Hopefully, your shipmates can warn the Lasiterians about the impending Vorloren attack and what I intend to do, but it may be a long shot." Hoshi had also received the hidden communication that Mac had sent before Romdel's betrayal, and the Earth ship knew all about the genocidal tendencies the Vorlorens were capable of towards the Lasiterians. It was a huge concern.

"Why do you say that?" Trip questioned.

"Setting up the meeting is one thing," Mac answered, "but actually getting to the meeting is another. The Vorloren fleet would see and track any move _Enterprise _or her shuttles made. From the sounds of T'Pol explanation, the Lasiterians are on the other side of the system from here."

Trip mused on this a moment. That definitely was problem. Unless the Lasiterians had a transportation device that was designed for extreme long range, somehow, anyone leaving _Enterprise_ would be seen. Then it hit him. The chief engineer would bet his bottom dollar that the Suliban had cloaked ships out in the system somewhere. If they could be convinced to help, like Kajine helped him get into Sinova, it might be doable. Now the problem would be contacting them and talking the aliens in to aiding the humans. Trip would mention the idea to the Captain if he had the chance, if Archer hadn't already thought about it himself. Although, if the Captain was as bad off as Mac claimed, he might not have.

When Trip remained silent, lost in his thoughts, Mac went ahead and finished her tale. "There is a little bit more that I need to tell you," she said slowly. Trip nodded to her to go on. "I've tried to snoop around the complex a bit. It's almost impossible to move around without running into some sort of security measure, but then I was designed to overcome such obstacles." Trip's lips twitched in amusement. She continued, "I think the Vorlorens have been working with your mysterious man from the future. I'm almost certain he's the one behind the creation of the Vorloren super soldiers."

"What?" Trip gasped. "How did you draw that conclusion? Why would Future Guy work with both the Suliban and the Vorlorens?"

"Good questions all round," she said. "And not to make myself sound all important, but I assume some of it has to do with me. Future Guy must really have wanted you guys to find me and revive me very badly. Why, I have no idea. But to get the Vorlorens to do all his dirty work for him, he had to offer the Vorlorens something of value in return. That is where the designs for a genetically engineered super soldier come in. He must have promised them they could pattern their new breed of warrior after me.

"To answer the question on how I developed my theory, I found what looks like a holographic chamber on a lower level of the complex. Jonathan explained to me that Future Guy is not far enough into the future to literally transport himself through time, but he can project his image and voice back through time. The chamber I found is unlike anything I have ever seen, so I hacked into Vorloren database to find out what it was. I found one highly-encrypted, well-hidden reference to the device. The only use it can have is holographic projection, and it requires a large energy source to power it," Mac said meaningfully.

"That sonvabitch," Trip cursed. "Should've known that he would be playin' more than one side. He obviously wants to keep his bases covered by usin' both the Suliban and the Vorlorens. I wonder how many other species he manipulates."

"Somehow I don't think the Vorlorens are keeping up their end of whatever bargain they've made with the man from the future. Why else would he send the Suliban into 'fix' things?" Mac made the little quotations mark symbols with her hands as she spoke.

"You could be right," Trip replied. "We'll have to let the Cap'n, or T'Pol, or someone aboard _Enterprise _know about your discovery."

"Agreed," Mac responded. "I haven't gotten a chance to communicate with _Enterprise _for a while. Things are being too closely monitored right now, you know, with the impending attack. Last item I need to tell you," she jumped ahead. "I'm going to try and get Romdel to allow you and Jonathan to accompany us on the transport to wherever this attack is going to take place. I want to give you guys some type of opportunity to escape to any place you can. Romdel and Hister will be briefing me a few hours before the army strikes with all the last minute strategic information I'll need."

"You think you can press your luck with Romdel a third time?" Trip said skeptically.

"I don't know. He's obsessed with eradicating every last Lasiterian, and he views me as his best hope of making that happen. I've proven to him that I'm more than capable. I'm going to at least give it a try. I want you two safe and sound when all the bad stuff goes down," Mac said as she stood.

Trip stood too, knowing there was something she was holding back. "We're not going to just leave you behind," he told her forcefully, his voice now sounding determined.

"When all is said and done, there maybe nothing to leave behind, Trip," she whispered.

Trip started. Mac was talking about that fact that she probably would not survive what was to come. She had to. He wasn't about to let her sacrifice herself a second time. The transgenic didn't even know the Lasiterians. She didn't need to give her life for them. "We will _not _leave you behind," he repeated and grabbed her so she would turn and face him. "We _will_ bring you home." He left the last unspoken, one way or another.

Mac placed a light, chaste kiss on his cheek. "I appreciate the sentiment, even if it's misplaced. I don't think Earth's really my home anymore anyway."

Suddenly, Trip wanted more from her than a simple kiss on the cheek. All of his bottled up emotions were more than he could handle. He didn't know why he was compelled to try and claim intimacy with her, but he was. Maybe it was her virus-enhanced blood making him more primitive and savage, a lot like the Captain, but whatever it was, she had definitely initiated something in him that was pure, basic instinct driven. His arms crushed her to him and he pressed his mouth to hers in a heated kiss. Her lips tasted of something sweet. Her body was warm and inviting. Mac resisted his actions for a moment, but then she gave into the same flood of primal need. She kissed him back with equal heat, letting him draw her close against him.

Then she pulled abruptly away. "That shouldn't have happen. I'm sorry."

Trip stepped close to her again. "You don't need to be sorry," he whispered huskily. "I wanted it to happen this time." He let his hand stroke her face. "Besides, I started it," he pointed out. Then he tried to kiss her again, more urgently this time. She almost let him. He smelled so good. He tasted so good.

But they were not meant to be together in such a way. He was not her mate, Jonathan was. Mac loved Trip, but not the same way she loved Jonathan. Mac was sure Jonathan was her soulmate, the one perfect fit for her. Trip was a kindred spirit, a loving friend to share the experiences of life with, but not her mate. The transgenic was coming to learn that sex could be much more than just recreation. It allowed two people to connect on a sacred level. T'Pol was Trip's soulmate, his perfect fit. The Vulcan just needed to recognize that fact for both her and Trip's sake.

Maybe it was Archer's need Mac was feeling and responding to subconsciously that somehow Trip picked up on. Maybe she was sending out signals she wasn't aware of. The chief engineer had a part of her body chemistry circulating throughout his body now. Who knew what changes or alterations it was making inside him? Phlox had not been able to closely monitor Trip's full recovery process. Getting captured had prevented any watchful eye Phlox would have kept on him. Anyway Mac looked at it; Trip didn't know what he was doing.

"Stop, Trip," Mac said instead of giving into her swirling desires. Trip was an attractive male: young, intelligent, kind, and fully functional. The commander tried again to kiss the transgenic. This time she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away to arms length. Her arm a solid barrier between them. It was as immovable as a duranium bar. "I said stop," she said in a more commanding voice. "This is my fault again. If I hadn't put the idea into your head, you wouldn't be acting this way. By coming on to you the way I did, I've really messed you up."

"What? I'm suddenly not good enough for you anymore?" Trip said angrily. He didn't like being denied what he thought they both wanted. "My rank not what you need it to be?" It was a petty and mean thing to say, but he didn't care at the moment.

Mac shook her head sadly. She was very glad that her hand was in contact with his maroon T-shirt and not his bare chest; that would have broken her resolve. "You know that's not it, Trip," her voice was softer now. "We both have others we care about. Whatever we are experiencing right now isn't normal, or real."

"It sure as hell feels real to me," he replied defiantly. "I may not be the dominant male, but I could be. I can challenge Jon for the top spot, and then claim you."

Mac's jaw dropped. Trip was using her wolf pack analogy against her. "You wouldn't battle your best friend over me," she tried to make it sound ridiculous, but looking into the chief engineer's fiery eyes, she wasn't so sure it was so ridiculous. Trip was deadly serious.

"If it meant being able to have you, I would," Trip stated.

"What about T'Pol?" Mac demanded.

"If she truly wanted to be with me, she would be, but she's not, and I don't think ever she will be," Trip answered. "And don't give me the line about the fact that you don't want me, because I know you do. I have experienced that you do."

The human super soldier didn't know what to do. She just stared at him. She felt lightheaded and a little dizzy. The thought struck her that maybe, like her animal counter parts, she was in heat. That would explain the feeling of being off she had experienced before Romdel had drugged her and why she and Archer couldn't keep their hands off each other. She couldn't put her finger on it at the time, but now in retrospect she could. It made more sense now.

She remembered after her transgenic sisters had hit puberty and before they had been exterminated, they went through a weird bodily cycle two or three times a year where the drive to mate was so strong it had to be met, or the consequences were more madness and death. Her fellow female transgenics would go after anything male with a pulse, and they could cause equally strong reactions in any males within their proximity. It was that powerful. It usually only lasted between thirty-six to forty-eight hours. Then the cycle faded and returned to a more normal human bodily cycle. She herself had never had that problem. For whatever reason, she didn't know. Her drive had never been that strong. It sure was now, however.

Mac wondered if being cryogenically frozen could have set it off in her. Her body had been in a suspended deep freeze for one hundred and fifty years. Now it seemed to want to make up for all that lost time, all at once. The transgenic had been experiencing this cycle almost since she had been awakened. She would have to talk to Phlox about it. Come to think of it, this new theory made perfect sense to the genetically engineered woman.

Many of the male Vorloren soldiers, regular and super, had been behaving oddly around her too. So had many of the male Vorloren scientists and medics. They had to constantly touch her, pat her shoulder, shake her hand, or drape an arm around her. Some of them had tried to do any little task for her they could, being way too helpful. A couple had even propositioned her for a little action. Even Romdel seemed to act strangely around her. Maybe that was why he was giving into her demands, because he was trying to win her over so she would chose him to mate with. That was a sick thought.

It would also explain why she had not been able to stop herself from coming on to Trip so doggedly. She _was_ in heat. This was not good. This could cause some serious problems. It was already causing problems. Trip's sudden change in behavior was proof of that. It was apparent that she needed Jonathan badly after all, not just him needing her. Mac had to get away from Trip and quickly. He truly was not thinking rationally, and he really didn't realize what he was doing. And it was all her fault.

"I had better go," the transgenic told him more confidently than she felt. "Take the counter transmitter out from under the underneath portion of the table and flush it down the toilet after I've gone. Romdel will never know what we've talked about." She dropped her arm and strode toward the door, a key card in her hand. Trip reached out and grabbed her left wrist. He tried to pull her back to him once again. He was not giving up yet. Mac, in return, grabbed Trip's arm that held her wrist right above his elbow. Then she stepped into him, but turned at the last second. She let her fingers slide down to his forearm, and then twisted it back behind him at an unnatural angle. Pain lanced up through his entire arm, and he was forced on to his knees because of it. She was now behind him, holding his arm twisted too far the wrong way.

Mac held him like that and kept up enough torque on the arm to almost break it. Tears stung Trip's eyes. The pain was unbearable. "I said I was leaving now, Commander Tucker," she spoke quite authoritatively. "You can either let me, or I can break your arm. You choose."

The pain had some sobering effect on him. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," he hissed through his pain.

"Take a cold shower and snap out it," she ordered.

"Fine by me," he said with his teeth clenched.

Mac let him go, and he gasped in sweet relief. His arm throbbed now, but at least the nerve biting pain had lessened. Just as she opened the door he said, "This isn't over, Mac. Not by a long shot." The human super soldier frowned at him, stepped out into the hall, and let the door close, leaving him on his knees and alone in his cage once again.

TBC

**Uh-oh, we have a role reversal going on here. What will that mean for Trip and T'Pol's reconnection, and what will it mean for Mac and Archer? Please review and let me know if this is any good. All comments are welcome. Thanks!!**


	27. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For some heavy violence and some romance; nothing over the top, but just be warned**

**A/N: In this chapter Mac and Archer will be reunited, but someone has plans to spoil their reunion. Who could that be? Read and you'll find out. A lot of the previous chapters and all that's happened in them were to lead up to what happens here in this one. Please review and give me feedback on this chapter. I really want to know what my readers think. This is a key chapter in this story. Thanks!!**

**And to LadyRainbow, thank you for, as always, setting me straight and helping me not to lose site of key points and people. :)**

**Chapter 26**

T'Pol stood with Archer as they waited for Romdel to transmit the correct codes and transporter coordinates to allow the Captain to transport down into the Sinova complex. Archer was in one of his calmer moods, at least right now, but anything could severely change that mood, however. The Captain's first officer and armory officer had tried to logically - and then not so logically - talk him out of putting himself in Romdel's custody. They both thought it was foolish, but then the Captain's more primitive self wasn't acting too rationally. T'Pol also understood that Mac was the only one who could make the Captain himself again, and right now _Enterprise_ and her crew needed their captain back in his right mind.

At least the transgenic was still on their side, and Trip was safe for the moment. Whatever Romdel had tried to do to Mac, it had failed. T'Pol seriously hoped it had failed, or they were all in big trouble. Phlox was giving Archer a few precautions, but T'Pol didn't think the human was listening to him. When Phlox was finished with his little lecture about Archer's health, she spoke.

"Do you realize that we will not be able to have any contact with you once you leave the ship?"

"We've gone over all this, T'Pol," Archer snapped. "I trust that Mac will have a plan."

"You are placing a great deal of trust in this transgenic, Captain," T'Pol spoke carefully. "If she is anything like the other Augments we have dealt with, that trust may be misplaced."

The Captain glared at her. "She isn't an Augment. She isn't like them," he insisted.

"The method of her creation may have been different from the Augments, but she shares the same defects that they had: their heightened aggression, their propensity towards violence, their extreme arrogance, and their unchecked ambition. Perhaps her defects are even more compounded than those of the Eugenics Augments." T'Pol's voice was calm.

"Mac isn't arrogant, and she doesn't have any ambition to conquer the galaxy," the Captain argued. "With the right help she can curb her inclination to be violent and aggressive. She's different from the Augments in another and more important way too; she wants to do what's right. She wants to help people. Mac needs us to trust her. It encourages her to keep trying to fight the bad parts of herself. You know she's a good person, T'Pol, you've seen that part of her for yourself."

T'Pol knew Archer was talking about Trip and the reason he was still alive. "Yes, Captain, I have, but I am still skeptical of her true nature. Her effect on you has not been beneficial. I just want you to be aware of the fact that this could all be some fabricated lie."

"Your concern is so noted and appreciated, T'Pol," Archer said a little less testily. "But, I know what I'm doing. I trust Mac. She'll have a plan and we'll stop the Vorlorens from massacring the Lasiterians."

The com beeped ceasing any further protests from T'Pol. "Romdel to Captain Archer," the treacherous alien's voice said through the com panel.

Archer punched the button down to respond. "Archer here," he answered.

"I am transmitting the code clearances and the coordinates for your beam down now, Captain. Remember without them your transporter is useless," Romdel told him. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

Archer bit back a nasty remark and said instead, "Me too. I really need to talk with you. I need help understanding why you kidnapped Mac and my chief engineer."

"Yes, Captain," Romdel's smooth voice said, "we have much to discuss about the very anxious female you have waiting for you, and I did not kidnap her. She came willing with me when I asked her to join me. Commander Tucker was found trespassing. We can discuss his situation when I see you as well."

"All the same," Archer said trying to sound polite, despite the anger he felt building, "I don't appreciate being keep in the dark about it, and I don't appreciate the lack of communication from you. I don't think Chief Suran was very happy about it either."

"His state of happiness is not my concern right now," Romdel replied. "Your transgenic's is."

"Well then, I guess I had better get down there. I will see you shortly." With that Archer signed off. T'Pol had relayed the codes and coordinates into the transporter and was ready to activate it. He stepped up onto the transport pad and nodded for T'Pol to energize it.

The Captain's form dematerialized, and then seconds later, rematerialized in what looked like a large conference room. The room looked a lot like the one of the conference rooms he had met with Romdel in when he first came to Sinova over three weeks ago, except this room was in the complex, not in a building across the way. This room was colored in sea foam greens and creams, with a thick and lush carpet of minty green. A long, rectangular table of light oak was set up in the middle of the room, with a number of cream-colored, cushioned chairs on wheels surrounding it on all sides. View screens and writing boards hung all over the walls at the front and back of the room. The side walls had more of the brightly painted Vorloren impressionist art hanging on them.

Finally, everything came into better focus when Archer fully materialized. A number of Vorloren soldiers were located at the back of the room. Romdel was a few feet away from the Captain at the front of the room. Mac was no where to be seen. A few Vorlorens in lab coats sat at the conference table. "Welcome back to Sinova, Captain Archer," Romdel greeted him jovially.

Archer was in no mood for pleasantries. "Where's Mac, Romdel?" he demanded with a threatening growl in his voice.

"She's on her way. Patience, Archer, patience," Romdel goaded him.

Before the Captain could stop himself he had said, "Where is my mate, Romdel? How dare you keep her from me!"

Romdel perused the Captain's appearance. The human looked a little worse for wear, but it was his eyes that got Romdel's attention and told him all him needed to know. Archer's pupils were dilated twice their normal size. Most of his hazel-colored irises had almost entirely grown black. The human's nostrils were flared and his breath was coming in rapid pants. Romdel couldn't keep the smile off his face. He had suspected that the human captain was having some kind of reaction to the transgenic's new disposition.

After the Chimera had confessed about the connection between her and Archer's body chemistries and that they affected each other mutually, Romdel concluded that the Chimera's state of mind would do something to the human male. The director had been right. Archer was in need of the human super soldier, just as much as she was in need of him, and this fact utterly captivated him. The scientist part of him couldn't resist trying to unlock the mystery of what was going on between the two humans. He had thought of blowing _Enterprise _and its crew out of the sky, now that he had wanted, but this new development made him change his mind. It was intriguing that she could influence the Captain in such away. He had to see how it played out and what use it might be to him and his super soldiers, if any.

The director had also underestimated the Chimera's desperate need for Archer. He wanted to keep her as happy and as cooperative as possible, as well as making sure she was in top shape to perform the way he needed her to perform. It was obvious: she couldn't perform to his liking without getting whatever she needed from Archer. He could see that some primitive need was building up in her. Hell, many of his men had felt the effects of her primal needs. Romdel, himself, was tempted to fulfill those drives for her, but the Chimera had made it clear that she would only accept Archer as a mate.

Romdel also hoped to placate his benefactor from the future with this fascinating occurrence. The Vorloren had not answered any of Future Guy's attempts to contact him. Romdel knew he was in deep trouble with the alien from the future because he had double-crossed and betrayed the future being. His benefactor had also sent more of his Suliban to interfere. Commander Tucker's break in was proof of that fact, and the Suliban involvement really worried the director. But now with Archer here, in the complex with the Chimera, the Vorloren director might be able to weasel his way out of that predicament. Romdel could claim that he was legitimately getting what he wanted and still doing as Future Guy asked, in regards to the transgenic and Archer.

"I'm not keeping your mate from you, Captain," Romdel crooned. "She should be here any minute. It seems that you are starting to resemble her."

Archer knew he had slipped up with his outburst. He had the distinct impression that Romdel had somehow found out about he and Mac's condition. "What?" Archer asked pretending to be confused. "I don't understand what you mean."

Romdel couldn't wait to see the human's face when he saw his precious Mac turned fully into her primal and ferocious self. He wanted to see the Captain become crestfallen and witness Archer's heartache at her transformation, but most of all, he wanted to witness the Captain's pain at the loss of all that was good in the human super soldier. He was still furious over the beating Archer had given him. That incident had been Romdel's first clue that something was up between the two humans, and the Chimera's confession had only verified his suspicions. He knew Archer could calm her beast, Future Guy had made that clear, but it was striking that she could make something primal in Archer rise.

"You'll find out soon enough, my dear Captain," Romdel replied smugly.

At that moment Mac appeared in the doorway into the conference room. Archer knew that she would be pretending to be the Chimera. T'Pol and Phlox had filled him in on what had happened to her and what she was doing, but he had to remember to seem shocked and horrified by her transformation, for Romdel's sake. When he looked upon her in the tight, sensuous, black leather jumpsuit that showed off all her assets to the hilt, however, his rational mind shut off. Her dark hair, even though part of it was pulled back, was still falling all glossy down her back. The wild, feral part of him pushed to the forefront again. Even her wolfen amber eyes and sharp teeth excited him.

He at least was able to say, "Mac?" feigning his ignorance of whom she was suppose to be.

The genetically engineered woman smiled seductively at her mate. "Try again, Jonathan," she said with silk in her voice. That voice moved over his enter body, filling it with fire. Oh God, how he had missed her! It had only been a week, but it seemed like a lifetime.

He had enough sense left to act surprised. "Chimera?" his voice showing his fake shock.

"In the flesh, love," she replied huskily. She moved into the room and stalked toward him. It took all the self-control he had left not to take her in his arms and ravish her right there, in front of everyone. "Are you all right, Jonathan? You seem distressed." She continued to send warmth over his body with just her voice.

"What has Romdel done to you?" he managed to ask with great difficulty. "Why are you in talking to me and not Mac?"

She stopped right in front of him and turned around to look at the Vorloren director. "Director Romdel has freed me, Jonathan. He let my true nature out of its prison and got rid of my pesky guilt. I can do anything I want now and not have to worry about feeling bad about it." She was good, Archer had to admit. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that the Chimera _was _really in control.

Then the Captain had to touch her. All other concerns faded into the background; he couldn't stand this close to her and not touch her. Mac was turned so her back was to him while she had been facing Romdel, and Archer stepped up right behind her and slid his arms around her waist. He pulled her against him and let his lips and nose nuzzle her hair and neck. He felt her lean into him and sigh at his contact. Suddenly, she turned, ever so slightly, allowing her mouth to find his. The Captain thought he would devour her. One of her hands reached up and ran through his hair. A hurricane of passion and lust enveloped both of them.

Romdel couldn't help but feel a prick of jealousy at the display of affection. Why the transgenic had chosen this silly human for her mate he would never know. She would have been much more satisfied by someone like himself. Obviously, whatever was pulling the two humans together was more powerful than Archer's trepidation over the Chimera's emergence, because it didn't keep the human from unashamedly kissing her and drinking her in like she was a cool, refreshing glass of water. Romdel was slightly disappointed that the animalistic need to mate had overrun any pain or loss Archer would have felt otherwise at seeing Mac as the Chimera. At any rate, the show in front of him was still worth the price of admission. The Chimera had a big influence on the human captain.

After a few moments Mac was able to pull away from her Jonathan just a little. Archer held her very possessively, cradling her against him, her back touching his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist, his hands resting on her hips. Nobody but him could have her.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private, because what I'm going to do you is not fit for an audience," she commented huskily.

"Lead the way," Archer said as he continued to nuzzle the back of her neck. "And you can do anything to me you like."

"I'm taking Jonathan back to my quarters," Mac informed Romdel. "When we have fully been sated, I will contact you. I don't want anyone to interrupt or disturb us. I can't be responsible for the consequences that would result if that were to occur."

Romdel shook himself from his daydream of himself and the transgenic mating; he couldn't help it. It appeared that it was not only the human captain she was having an influence over. The drive was almost overwhelming to all the males in the room. "As you wish, Chimera, but remember that you do have a schedule to keep to," he told her, once he found his voice again.

"I know," she answered. "And I _will_ keep to it, but I'm going to fully enjoy what time you have allowed me with my mate." With that said, she began to pull Archer from the room. He followed eagerly. It didn't take long from them to travel down the hallway and get to the elevator. Mac hit a button, and then flung herself into Jonathan's arms as they waited for the elevator to arrive. The kissing and caressing grew to titanic proportions by the time the elevator reached their floor. Jonathan had even started to unlace some of the ties on the front of her jumpsuit. Both of them were panting from their exploits. She had miraculously kept her long teeth from cutting him anywhere.

But the elevator wasn't empty when it arrived; Trip was in it with a group of eight Vorloren soldiers. When he saw Mac and Archer in the middle of their make out session, he went ballistic. He ripped Mac out of the Captain's arms and pulled her into his. "I told you it wasn't over Mac!" he all but roared.

"What is he talking about?" Archer asked. What was Trip doing in the elevator? Wasn't he supposed to be locked up in a cell some place?

"She hasn't told you," Trip growled at the Captain. "I'm challengin' you for the right to be her mate." Archer noticed the commander's eyes were almost a dilated as his were. What in the hell was going on here? What was wrong with Trip?

"No you're not, Trip," Mac told him, her tone angry too. "I will not let you two fight over me. I've made my choice. Now deal with it." She pulled herself away from the chief engineer.

Trip just grinned madly at her. "Oh, I'll deal with it alright. I'm gonna to beat Jon into the ground and then claim you as my own."

"Just try it, Trip," Archer took up his challenge, more than ready for it. Mac was his and his alone. "You'll be the one beaten into the ground, Commander."

Without warning Trip threw himself at the Captain and they both tumbled out of the elevator and into the hallway. The eight Vorloren soldiers placed themselves in front of Mac to try and bar her from interfering. They had their orders. The fight was on and they were going to let it happen.

Trip's fist clocked Archer a good one to his chin, throwing the Captain's head back. The chief engineer followed the first punch up with another one and then a third, keeping the Captain pinned to the ground out in the hallway. Archer saw stars for a few moments. Then he lashed up and out at Trip with a leg, his boot heel catching the commander in the jaw. The kick had enough power behind it to send Trip flying backwards, off of Archer, and onto the ground himself.

Blood ran down Trip's bottom lip from where his teeth had tore at it, as Archer's kick had forced them into his flesh. Trip had bloodied the Captain's nose pretty badly. Archer was up and on his feet in an instant, and this time he rushed Trip. He plowed into him low in the chief engineer's chest, literally lifting him up off the floor and slamming him into the wall. The Captain pulled back and hit Trip hard in his gut with two separate straight on front-knuckle punches. Then he grabbed the chief engineer around the neck to force Trip's head down and went to drive his knee into the commander's face.

Trip grabbed Archer's knee and force the two of them off balance, sending them to the floor again. As the Captain tried to right himself, Trip's foot pounded into the side of his face, sending him back down to the ground. "You're not good enough for her, Jon," Trip hissed at his captain. "You can't give her what she needs. I'll show her who the dominant male really is."

The skin above Archer right eye was split open and blood oozed out of the wound. At Trip's words, the Captain felt a blind, white-hot rage wash through him. He would never let another male touch his mate. She belonged to him. How dare this pup challenge him! Archer rolled away from another of Trip's attempts to stomp on his face. He scrambled effectively to his feet once again. Trip rushed at him, but this time the Captain side stepped the move and caught Trip with a clothesline hit to his throat. The commander dropped to the floor gasping for breath. Then Archer kicked out with an instep kick to Trip's ribs.

"Stop this!" Jonathan heard Mac yelling. He wouldn't stop until Trip had learned his lesson, even if it killed his friend. You didn't mess with the alpha male.

"You never could get the better of me Trip, not even on your best days," Archer taunted. "You've always been a few too many steps behind me."

"Yeah, and you've always been the one to succeed at everythin' you do," Trip spat at him, still recovering from the clothesline to his throat. "Well, not _this _time."

The chief engineer was on all fours on the ground with Archer coming up behind him. Trip back kicked with all his might, aiming for Archer's kneecap. He missed, but the kick still struck Archer's thigh and forced him backward, allowing Trip to get to his feet now.

They circled each other like ravenous wolves, looking for a drop in either's defenses. Archer struck out with his fists again, but this time Trip blocked both punches and landed a strike of his own into the Captain's temple. The commander tried to follow it up with a kick to Archer's stomach, but the Captain blocked it with a kick of his own. "Please, Trip, Jonathan, stop this!" Mac was pleading. Hearing her voice, Trip turned to look at her. It was a mistake. Archer roundhouse-elbowed Trip in his face, then spun and turned to elbow him in his lower vertebrae. Trip collapsed to the floor yet again.

The Captain then wrapped his arm around the chief engineer's neck in a chokehold and began to squeeze. Trip's hands clawed at Archer's arm, trying to make him let go. The Captain only tightened his grip and cut off more of Trip's air. Archer actually thought about using the hold to break Trip's neck. Then it would be over and done with. "Jonathan, please don't kill him! He doesn't know what he is doing!" Mac was screaming now. She had been frozen to the spot by the viciousness of their fight.

Somehow her desperation found itself into his brain. He released his friend and backed away from him. Trip sank to the floor and passed out. His face was a bloody mess, his ribs were cracked, his throat bruised, and he had a concussion. Archer didn't fair much better. He slid to the floor and just sat there. His one leg that Trip had kicked didn't want to support his weight anymore. His face too, was bloodied and bruised. His knuckles were torn up and bleeding as well. His jaw and temple throbbed, and he had a slight concussion.

"Well done, Captain," Romdel's voice broke through his pain. Archer looked up to see the director standing beside a group of soldiers and the Vorlorens in the lab coats from the conference room. They were punching buttons at light speed, recording their observations on their electronic devices. "I must say that was quite the fight. I knew you'd come out on top."

"What?" the Captain demanded.

"Your dear Commander Tucker contacted me about a half hour ago and begged me to let him have at you," Romdel informed Archer. "He told me that the Chimera belonged to him, not you, and that I should let him dispatch of you for me. I decided to let him try. I was enthralled by the effect that the Chimera was having on all the males around her, including myself. I just had to know how far she could make them go. It appears she almost had good friends killing each other. Lucky for you, this remarkable creature has a soft spot for both of you. It seems she can pull you back from the edge as well as push you over it."

"You're an unscrupulous bastard, Romdel," Archer said trying to insult him.

"Yes, I am," Romdel said, unfazed by the Captain's words. "I do find it very interesting that even in her feral state, the Chimera didn't want either of you to die. I was hoping she would be bloodthirsty enough to want one of you dead. I may need to up her drug dosage."

Archer remembered the charade that he and Mac were supposed to be carrying out. Mac, in her fear for both his life and Trip's, had broken her act. The Captain knew he had to cover for her. He had to act outraged. He did. "What the hell have you done to her, Romdel? What are you giving her?"

Romdel's smile was pure malevolence. "Something to destroy all that you find good in her, Captain. I am restoring her to her true nature. She was created to be the perfect killing machine and she has demonstrated that she can, indeed, become that. I just need to find the right drug combination to make it happen. She is so close to realizing her full potential. I may have to separate the two of you now. You still seem to have a bad influence on her, and I can't afford to let it weaken her, not now."

Mac stepped forward at this statement, finally coming out of her state of shock. Watching Jonathan and Trip fight had rooted her to the spot, frozen her. It was like watching a train wreck or a horrible car accident; you didn't really want to see it, but you couldn't seem to pull your eyes a way from viewing it. "You promised me, Romdel. You promised me I could have Jonathan. If you don't follow through this time I will kill you."

She had had it with the Vorloren. In less than a second Mac had Romdel on his knees in a chokehold, mirroring what Archer had done to Trip. Her left hand was clawed, and she ran the claws down his face hard, tearing his flesh. The alien screamed in pain and fear, silver blood streaking his cheek. His soldiers stood frozen, not knowing what to do. They all knew what the transgenic was capable of.

"Kill the humans," Romdel hiss out to the soldiers. "If she kills me, kill them." They instantly obeyed and aimed their weapons at Trip's unconscious form and at Archer sitting on the floor.

It was a Mexican standoff; everyone stayed as they were. Then Mac sliced through Romdel's face a second time, down his other cheek. "Just let me have my Jonathan. That's all I want. It's foolish to try and take him away from me. Foolish and dangerous to your health," she whispered in the director's ear after his yelping had died down.

"Listen, Romdel," the Captain tried to be diplomatic. "All I really want is my mate. Let us be together and then the Chimera will do whatever you want. She doesn't have to keep hurting you."

Romdel was breathing very hard. Tears were flowing down his shredded cheeks from his eyes, mingling with his silvery blood. "If I agree to let her have you, you must give me something in return," Romdel wheezed at Archer.

"Like what?" the Captain couldn't think of anything he had of value to Romdel.

Romdel decided to kick the human while he was down. The Vorloren director didn't like the position he was in, the pain he felt, so he was going to be vindictive. He would take everything from Archer and let him feel only grief. Romdel knew what was dearest to Archer's heart. "Give me your ship and its crew." The _Enterprise_ was a fine vessel and the technology it carried semi-useful, but it was to wound Archer spiritually, that he demanded it. The Captain just blinked at him, and his voice caught in his throat. Was Romdel so wicked he would make Archer choose between the woman he loved and his ship? Archer was so speechless he couldn't answer the Vorloren director.

Mac's heart fell the instant Romdel called for Jonathan to give up his real love, his ship and his crew. Even, the Chimera couldn't let him make that kind of sacrifice for her. The transgenic had one last card to play. If it didn't work, well, it wouldn't matter if it didn't. As fast as she had grabbed Romdel, she threw him from her and disarmed the nearest guard. She set the pulse rifle weapon to build up its power output until would overload. It started blinking yellow and then blue as the energy inside it spiked. Then she held it tightly to her and backed slowly away from the rest of those assembled.

"Sorry, Director, but I am going to ruin your little scheme," Mac said, her voice as cold as ice. "I would rather die than see you do this to my mate. I may be the perfect killing machine, but I do know what loyalty is. Jonathan is pack and pack is to be safeguarded as all costs. Even wild animals will protect what is theirs, especially their young. In this case, it's my mate that's in danger, and I will protect him. You can kiss any of the plans you had for your super soldier army and me goodbye. This pulse weapon's power supply will explode. At this proximity, even someone like me can't survive its explosion. It will blow me into a million different pieces. It may kill a few of you too, but at this point, I don't really care anymore. You can all go to hell!"

Archer was on his feet quicker than he thought possible. He wobbled just a bit, but started toward Mac. "Stay back, Jonathan. You are the only one I care about, so don't move." Her eyes briefly flashed a glance at Trip's unconscious form; she cared about him too, but she didn't say it out loud. Being concerned for both of them would only add to Romdel's suspicions about her beast being in control.

Romdel couldn't believe what he was hearing and seeing. He observed with quiet fury the guard's pulse rifle blink from blue to purple. The human super soldier was genuinely going to do it. She was truly letting the weapon's power base spiral out of control. It would only be a matter of seconds and it would blow. The Chimera's devotion to her mate was unprecedented in his experience. She was really willing to die to protect him. The Vorloren director had way too much at stake to lose this scientific wonder so senselessly. He would have to back down from his personal vendetta against Archer, for the time being. After the Chimera did what he wanted, Archer was a dead man. "All right, all right," Romdel relented at last. "You can have your foolish captain."

"At no cost to him," Mac insisted.

Romdel winced in pain at the damage the Chimera had done to him. Loose skin hung down his face and blood still poured down it. If he didn't need her so badly, he would have killed her himself right then. No one did something like this to him and lived. He would enjoy seeing how much torture she could take before she actually died when she had served her purpose. The thought comforted him a little. "Fine. Archer is yours, without any cost to him," Romdel rumbled. "Take him and leave, now, before I change my mind. And if you don't live up to your end of our little bargain, Archer and Tucker will wish they had never set eyes on you, so great shall be their pain."

Mac didn't hesitate. She disarmed the weapon and everyone watched it change from purple back to yellow. She threw it at another guard, and then ran to the Captain. Putting an arm around his waist to steady him, she hastened their way into the still open elevator.

She spared another fleeting look, at Trip. "Make sure Commander Tucker recovers. I want to make him pay for what he's done to my mate personally, but I want him well enough to suffer all over again," she commanded. She didn't mean a word of what she said, of course, but it would sound good to Romdel. Trip needed medical attention, and she had to help him somehow without seeming to do so. It was the best excuse she could come up with.

When the doors of the elevator finally closed, and it began its decent, Archer collapsed against her. She held him upright and hugged him fiercely, trying not to cry. That had been too close – way too close.

TBC

**Okay, you **_**have to**_** let me know what you think about this. I spent a lot of time and effort to make this event happen. I just thought it would be cool to have Trip and Archer (best friends) fight over a girl. What's the verdict??**


	28. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For heavy romance**

**A/N: Two warnings for this chapter. Mac and Archer are finally back together and they have some intimate moments. Again, I'm not one to go over the top; I do have standards and a line I don't like to cross. That said, I do like to have some spice and flare between Mac and Archer. The other warning is to let you know that this chapter contains some elements of a spiritual nature. I felt strongly that Mac's inner battle and character call for it. I'm not trying to tout anything or preach to anyone, but I have to be true to myself and my beliefs. Mac is growing and changing, trying to better herself and be a force for good, so her discussion with Archer, I think is very fitting. Hopefully, the ideas will be taken with an open mind. If any reader out there thinks it is too much, let me know. I'm not ashamed of what I believe, but it is not my goal to force it on anyone either. Thanks for your understanding.**

**LadyRainbow read through the content when she beta read it and seemed to be supportive of it, so I'm going with it. Feel free to comment on what you read. Feedback is the only way I will know how this chapter is received. Happy reading!!!**

**Chapter 27**

Mac got herself and Archer the rest of the way to her quarters as quickly as possible, using her enhanced strength and speed to hurry them along. Once inside her quarters, she called for a medical kit with analgesics included in it. She needed to treat Jonathan's wounds, but she was visibly shaking from the emotional tumult. The super soldier laid Archer on her bed and let him remain unconscious, until the medical kit arrived. She activated another counter transmitter she had acquired. She didn't want Romdel learning of their scam, and they had just paid a very high price trying to keep it intact. Mac hoped Romdel would see that Trip was all right, and she would check up on him later, but right now she had to focus on Jonathan. She truly couldn't focus on anything else, not even her beloved Trip.

She stripped Jonathan of his uniform jumpsuit and black, button-down shirt. Underneath that he was wearing the standard issued blue Starfleet undergarments. Mac couldn't help but shake her head. Whoever had decided to make them blue must have been up in the night; although, Jonathan's body fit them well. Mac checked for any fractures, or external bruising all long his body. She found an ugly bruise forming on one of his thighs and light bruising across part of his torso. On the outside, it didn't look too serious. Trip had taken the brunt of the fight; he was probably in a much worse situation. Another twinge of guilt and worry over the chief engineer washed over her.

While she waited for the medical kit to come, she _had_ to check on Trip. She called down to the Sinova's extensive sickbay and was told curtly that the commander was being seen to, but that was it; the nurse or doctor just cut her off. At least Romdel was having him treated. Mac just hoped they were competent and thorough about it.

The medical kit finally came, and she used it to check Archer out methodically, like she hoped Trip would be. The little scanner showed no internal bleeding, no broken bones, and no brain swelling; that was all good news. As she started to clean his face of blood, apply antiseptic to his cuts and abrasions, and seal the slits in his skin, he stirred. His eyes were still partially dilated, but more of his enchanting hazel-green could be seen. He blinked a few times as he came to.

"Mac?" he questioned quietly.

"I'm right here, love," she whispered and continued to wipe the blood from his lips, nose, and temple.

He hurt all over as he felt the exertion and damage his fight with Trip had caused for the first time. He moaned softly. "I'll give you something for the aches and pains in just a minute," Mac told him.

"Thanks," he said weakly. "You weren't really going to do it, were you?" he suddenly asked.

"Yeah, I was," she admitted, knowing that he was asking about her blowing herself up. The weapon had been only a few seconds away from going kaboom. "Jonathan, I would never ask you to choose between your ship with its crew and myself. They come first and foremost. I'm happy to fall second to them. Your responsibility as a captain comes way before any loyalty you feel towards me. I had to do something desperate to shake Romdel up and make him make the decision, instead of you. I couldn't put you through that. It was fortunate he gave into my demands." _Yet again_, she thought. Someone must be looking out for her on this one.

Archer studied her a moment, just observing her tending to him. It warmed his heart to hear her say that about his crew. She really understood what they meant to him. Mac really did love him, enough to die for him; it was a surreal realization. Usually it was him, willing to die for something, or someone else. Now here was this intriguing and stunning woman, who was willing to give her life for his. It had his buzzing head spinning double-time.

Her touch felt good to his wounded body: gentle, reassuring, tender, and soothing. True to her word, he felt a hypospray administered to his neck. "That should help," she commented.

"I can't believe I hurt so badly," he said hoarsely.

"I can try and kiss your pains better," she teased lightly, "but I think the analgesic will be much more effective."

Even though Archer had had the stuffing beat out of him, it didn't stop his libido. At mention of the word kiss, desire whirled to life inside him. "It's worth a try," he said huskily now. Mac just smiled softly at him and proceeded to kiss his forehead, each of his eye lids, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin, his neck, and on down. The kisses were light and airy, feather soft. He finally stopped her. "Is Romdel monitoring us?" he had to know.

"Yes and no," she replied. "I'm using a counter transmitter to make him think all we are doing is ravishing each other. He won't know what we are really talking about, or really doing."

"Even if we decide to ravish each other anyway?" Archer couldn't help but feel the needing and wanting of her to wash through him all over again.

"Especially if that happens," she joked. The Captain noticed for the first time that Mac's eyes were no longer amber, but her normal alluring brown, and her fangs were gone. His trust in her had not been misplaced; she really was Mac and not the Chimera. Her hands caressed his stomach under his undershirt. It had him shivering instantly. Their mouths meet. When it began, Archer thought he was going to go mad with wanting her, and that they would end up rushing through their intimate dance. Their kisses and caresses were hungry ones, but as it continued, their pace slowed down.

Both of them wanted to savor each touch, kiss, and sensation, as if it was the first or the last. They mated tenderly and leisurely, taking time to really connect with one another. They poured all of themselves into each other with love and adoration. Each movement seemed to be sealing their bond to each other. Their souls aligned and merged into one. They sincerely made love, and it was richer than any of their previous couplings. Archer had never felt anything so exquisite in his life; he had never made a connection this deep or strong with any other being. Mac had to agree with him; this was a once in a life time moment, and she would always cherish it.

Afterward, they lay completely entangled in one another. Both of their bodily systems were functioning correctly and normally again, but the need to be near each other and to touch each other was still there. Mac rested her head on his chest, listening to his strong and reassuring heartbeat, breathing in his earthen smell. She was trying to commit every bit of him to memory: his face, his body, his touch, his smile, his smell, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and especially his soul. She knew she would need it all to sustain her later. Mac tried not to let him feel her anguish, as she came to understand that this might be the last time she saw him. She would never tell him that and cause him any more grief than she already had.

"I love you so much, Jonathan," she whispered. "I will always love you."

"I love you too. I truly do," he replied. Something about the way she phrased the last part of her declaration worried him. "I was thinking," he told her now, "that if we make it out of this situation intact and alive, which I'm sure we will, somehow, I'm going to have to find a way to make you apart of my crew. I can't be without you. I need you by my side. Any adventure now would be meaningless, if I couldn't share it with you."

Mac had to bit her lip to keep from crying. "And how were you planning on doing that?" she tried to asked without her voice cracking. "Starfleet isn't likely to allow a genetically engineered soldier from Earth's past to run loose across the galaxy on their flagship." The arm Archer had wrapped around her began to move. His hand and finger tips were gingerly making soft circles across her back and shoulders.

"Well," he began, "since you are so skilled in military strategy and technique, I was going to see what the commander of the MACOs aboard _Enterprise_ would think of letting you be some kind of technical advisor or trainer or something along those lines. Having some like you watching our backs would be very welcome. We tend to run into quite a few hostile species. Besides, we are a long way from Earth right now. Who's to know when we could return and drop you off? Anyway, Starfleet doesn't get much say in the matter, all the way out here."

"It's a nice idea," Mac replied. "I like how you think. Letting me continue on down my warrior path is very thoughtful of you."

"I don't want you to give up who you are any more than you want me to give up who I am," he said seriously. Her tone had been a little playful, jesting even, and he wanted her to feel the gravity of what he was saying.

"And who am I?" she asked, now serious herself.

"I think you've discovered that for yourself," he answered. "You are McKenna McKnight, a guardian angel for all those who can't save themselves. You're a protector."

Mac did cry now, but very softly. "Or the other thought I had was that you could be Mrs. Jonathan Archer, if you wanted to be. Starfleet might be persuaded to let you stay with me, if you were my wife." The Captain said this almost inaudibly. He knew her enhanced hearing would be keen to pick it up, however. He was in mortal fear of her reaction, but he had to make her the offer to share his life with him. He needed her in his life now. He had to keep telling himself she wasn't Margaret; she wouldn't refuse him.

"Jonathan, I would give anything to be, but ---," she faltered.

"But what?" he questioned, the fear of rejection building. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and fingers. He felt her tears. "What's wrong, Mac?" He experienced her turmoil as well as his own, but didn't understand its source.

She couldn't bear to tell him what she was sure would happen in a few hours. She wouldn't get a chance to become his wife, even if it was her fondest wish. They were mates; why not make it legally binding as well? But she was going to die saving a people she didn't even know, that she had to save, because nobody else could. "Can I tell you something first, Jonathan, before I respond to your sweet proposal?" she now asked in a hushed voice.

"Of course," he told her. "You can tell me anything." He pulled her against him more securely, and she snuggled deeper into him. He wanted to hear her out.

"This is going to sound kind of crazy, but I know it's true," she said emphatically. "Do you know how I beat Romdel's drug and finally accepted the Chimera as me?" It was a rhetorical question; she didn't expect Archer to answer. "I didn't do it alone. I did something I have never done before with any real conviction. It was something I had seen Victor do every once in a while, when he was really struggling with things, and it seemed to give him extra strength. I had forgotten totally about it, until the night I quit the drug.

"I prayed, Jonathan, not out loud, but in my heart and mind. I asked any deity that would listen, any higher power that would hear me, to help me. I just let the thoughts flow and tried to have a little faith. I was in such a gall of bitterness, Jonathan. I just knew I couldn't do it alone. I needed someone stronger than myself to pull me out of my own little corner of hell." Mac was weeping openly now, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

Archer was mesmerized by her confession. He had always said he had an open mind when it came to any spiritual topic, and now he had a chance to prove it. "What happened?" he asked when she paused, his hand wiping the tears away.

Mac pulled back just enough to look Jonathan in the eye. "Nothing, at first. I don't know how long I laid in the darkness of my quarters, but it seemed like a very long time. I was about to give up and stop trying. Then it was like everything just stopped; time appeared to stand still. A few times while meditating I thought I heard a still, small voice, or a calm, peaceful feeling would come over me and try and guide me to do what was right. Each time I've listened to those promptings or intuitions, something good has resulted. Each time I've chosen not to listen or act, I have regretted a missed opportunity. Those same feelings or that soft whisper of a voice was there as I prayed.

"The bitterness, turned to joy, and I was lifted up out of my hell. I felt loved and cared for as never before. I finally understood that I wasn't alone. Some force, much more powerful than anything I comprehended, would make up the difference of what I lacked. I had to act, have faith, and follow the counsel I had been receiving from time to time, and then I would be able to conquer myself, conquer the evil that was trying to enslave me.

"I learned I had to let go of my hate and my rage. I had to face the loss of my father. I had to forgive those who murdered him. I had to forgive men like Khan for they way they used me. And I had to find a way to forgive myself. Only then could I move on and find my purpose. I knew with the help of whatever higher power was reaching out to me, I could find a way to accomplish those tasks." Mac couldn't believe she was admitting all this to Archer; she hadn't been able to tell Trip this part. Jonathan was going to think she had lost her mind.

He didn't. "I've always believed that beings existed that were far wiser than us humans and that some of them would be willing to help us along our path. There's a reason for all the myths and religions found on Earth and throughout the cultures of other species out here in the vastness of space. They are all based on something real, some kind of truth. We all need to know we're not alone. The belief in a benevolent higher power gives people the hope of something better. It helps them strive to do better, to be better, and to help one another. I can't say I believe in anyone all-powerful god-type of being, but I do know that there are many unexplainable things that have happened and are happening throughout this universe of ours, so I won't count anything out as impossible."

"You don't think I'm ready to join the funny farm?" she asked.

"If your asking if I think you've lost your mind, the answer is no," Archer said and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you've somehow found the inner strength you need to win your own personal battle. Anything that pushes you to do good can't be a bad thing."

Mac let out the breath she'd been holding; now came the hard part. "I know what my purpose is now, Jonathan. I loved how you called me a protector, a guardian angel, because that's who I am. I was given the abilities I have to use them to watch over others. They aren't for me, or my personal gain, but to be used in rescuing those who need rescuing, and to stop the advance of evil. 'Where much is given, much is required,'" she quoted.

"My whole ordeal with my beast, my demon, was given to me to help me understand the nature of evil, not to punish me or pick on me. I know the evil in men's, or in this case, aliens' hearts. I grasp how evil thinks, what kinds of things it will do, and I know what it desires. Evil's soul purpose is to destroy and to spread as much misery as it can. It wants power, control, and great glory all for itself. I know this because it's what I wanted. I was always taught as a soldier that you had to think like your enemy to truly get the better of him and defeat him. By dealing with my demon, I know the evil I'm up against. I can use that knowledge against it and overcome it.

"I've also come to believe that meeting you was a gift. I don't think it was mere coincidence that you, Jonathan Archer, were the person from Earth to find me and revive me. And before you say anything, I have a feeling that this goes way beyond any schemes your nemesis from the future is trying to perpetrate. Whatever force has purposely put us together, it's much bigger and more powerful than Future Guy could ever dream of being.

"I had to wait one hundred and fifty years for you to come along and free me from my prison. You who could calm me with your touch. You were the only person who could tame my beast enough for it to realize being domesticated doesn't necessarily make it weak. Self-control focuses all the raw strength inside me and gives me a clear vision of what I need to do. You were meant to be part of my life and I yours. You taught me how to love and you never gave up on me."

"And I never will give up on you, ever, in anyway," Archer was firm and he held her gaze meaningfully. He shifted her closer to him again. "I'm happy that you finally saw in yourself what I saw all along. You got to the bottom of your rage and dealt with it. You accepted Victor McKnight's death, and the fact that he had instilled something good in you. And you learned that your primal instincts aren't bad things. They can be of great benefit to you if you can use them the right way."

Jonathan paused as he pondered the truth he heard in her words about what her purpose might be. He didn't like the path they directed her towards, however. He had a feeling that she would do anything to stop the horrible slaughter that the Vorlorens had planned. She may even sacrifice herself to make that happen. "You want to save the Lasiterians from being exterminated, don't you?" he finally asked.

Mac smiled warmly at the man she loved. "Absolutely. Some may say that it's not my fight, and maybe it isn't, but I can't just stand by and do nothing. I became involved the minute Romdel use the drug on me to make me massacre what's left of a beaten and terrorized group of people," she responded. It was her turn to gently stroke his face, carefully avoiding his injuries.

"You don't even know them," Archer protested, not because he didn't believe in helping those who needed your help, he was all for that, it was because he knew what the cost could be. And they really knew nothing about the Lasiterians. What if they were just as bad as or worse than the Vorlorens?

"I get that," Mac told him, running her hands through his hair next. "Trip pointed it out as well, but there's a famous saying from Earth's history that sums up my feelings perfectly. I know deep down in your heart you believe this sentiment too, because you are a good man, a very good man. 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing'. Edmund Burke, an Irish philosopher and statesman, said that in the eighteenth century. It still holds true in the twenty-second century."

The beautiful super soldier then explained to Archer all she had expounded to Trip earlier that day. She told him about the cybernetic neuro implants and her plan to use them against the Vorlorens. She also informed Jonathan about all of the atrocities she had discovered in the Vorlorens' records and archives, where the Vorlorens were slaughtering and torturing Lasiterians by the millions. Mac mentioned that she sent Hoshi a copy of everything she had found.

Archer was extremely concerned about Mac's use of the cybernetic neuro implant. He didn't like that she would be connected to a bunch of killing machines, when she was just starting to achieve a little victory over the killer instinct inside her. What if Romdel used it to totally control her and brought her demon screaming back to life? What if Romdel anticipated her trying to use it against his plan and caused it to severely cripple or kill Mac? There were too many negative possibilities for his comfort, but Mac insisted she knew what she was doing. She had figured in a plethora of variables when she decided to go ahead and utilize the neuro implant. Mac was so ardent about the situation that Archer didn't push her too far with it. He let it go, for now.

She summed up her justification for her conviction to save the Lasiterians with what she said next. "You can't tell me that you haven't felt how vile Romdel is. He utterly has no conscience. He will use any means necessary to achieve his ambitions. For some reason, he and many of the Vorloren leaders, hate the Lasiterians with such maniacal passion that they want to eradicate the Lasiterians' very existence."

Archer couldn't argue against her logic; Mac was right about Romdel. The alien was the most backstabbing, deceitful, despicable, manipulative, and depraved person he had ever met. The Vorloren director was the personification of the word evil. Archer said as much to Mac.

"You should meet his brother, Torin Hister. He's a hundred times worse than Romdel. He's the one who developed, or at least was responsible for the development of the drug Romdel used to try and make me into a monster permanently. From what I've been able to gather from eavesdropping on he and Romdel, Hister is somehow controlling the High Monarch. He's using some other kind of drug on the Vorloren king to force him to do whatever he and Romdel wish. It reminds me of a type of 'Manchurian Candidate', you know, a total brainwashing deal."

"Do you think the regular citizens of the Vorloren system believe as Romdel and Hister do? Do they hate the Lasiterians so much that they would want to annihilate them too?" Archer asked sliding Mac even closer to him so there was no space between them. She was so warm, her presence so soothing.

Mac grew thoughtful. "I fear many of them do, but mainly because of the lies and propaganda Romdel and Hister throw at them night and day. Many of them don't know what the truth is. They're blinded to it."

"There was that maid in the palace that slipped you the data disk with a message from the Lasiterians on it. She had to be sympathetic to their plight if she was willing to risk her life like that, right in front of the Vorloren director. I'm willing to bet there are a lot of Vorlorens dissatisfied with Romdel and Hister's leadership, a lot more like that maid. If we could take out the corrupted Vorloren government and free the High Monarch from Hister's mind control, do you think then the rest of the Vorlorens could be taught the truth and be shown how to make peace with the Lasiterians?" Archer asked next.

"The old cutting-off-of-the-head-of-the-snake-instead-of-its-tail-to-kill-it strategy, huh?" Mac chuckled lightly. It was music to Jonathan's ears, but he knew it was masking her true feelings. She was very afraid of something; he could feel it, sense it.

"Exactly," he said and tried to smile. "We need to hope that we don't create a hydra, however. You know, you cut off one head and get two more in its place."

"Nice use of Greek mythology for a metaphor, Captain," Mac quipped. Then she said more seriously, "What is this 'we' business? I'm working to get you, Trip, and your crew out of this nasty situation, not deeper into it. You don't need to be anymore involved than you are."

Archer quickly rolled them over so that he was on top of her, instead of the other way around; his weight pinning her to the bed. It was an aggressive and forceful move. He was asserting his alpha male status. Mac could have easily overpowered Jonathan, but she liked this side of him. He was attempting to put her in her place. It was what she expected the dominant male in her pack to do. It felt natural and he felt good, so she let him do it.

His voice was low and dynamic when he said, "I'm not one to run from a fight, and I won't leave an entire group of people to be wiped out, not when I'm in a position to try and stop it. I do believe in your earlier sentiment; I won't let evil win by doing nothing. My crew and I can help you protect the Lasiterians. It doesn't matter that we don't know anything about them at this point. No group of people deserves what has been happening to them, not even the Vorlorens would deserve it to happen to them." Then he kissed her heatedly and for a long while, trying to taste all of her.

Mac broke off first, but it left her breathless and wanting more. "Quit trying to distract me, Jonathan. It won't work. I've made up my mind."

"So I have I," Archer said with firm conviction. "I won't let you do this alone. I can't stop you, and know that I shouldn't try, but I'll be damned if I'll allow you to go on this self-imposed mission all by yourself. Hoshi and Malcolm were going to try and make contact with the Lasiterians. If we can actually talk to them, maybe we can warn them before the attack takes place. I just found you and I'm not going to lose you."

Mac knew she couldn't change his mind either, and she admired his sense of duty and his desire to do the right thing. But she didn't want him in any more danger than he had to be. She would pretend for the moment to let him have his way; she could work around him. He was a stubborn fool, but then maybe she was too. "All right. It can't hurt to have you try and help, just so you or your crew don't tip off the Vorlorens to what you're doing. It's kind of nice to know that I'll have backup."

Her words sounded right to Archer, but he sensed that she wasn't sincere. He would show her a thing or two. He would get further involved and help her out, whether she liked it or not. He would not lose her, not now.

"I've got to convince Romdel to let you and Trip come with us to the strike zone. Once there we can come up with a way to get you back to _Enterprise_ and you can use her to make things a little fairer for the Lasiterians," she added.

Archer knew what she was doing. She would try and find a way to force him out of the action. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He decided to try and distract her again, even if it was for only a short time. Hell, he wanted to distract himself too. "You never gave me an answer," he said changing the subject. He wrapped himself fully around her, their bodies pressed tightly together.

Mac looked at him blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then she remembered the offer for her to be his wife. With him filling up all of her senses with his smell, warmth, and proximity, she could only have one response. As he kissed her neck and his favorite spot along her collarbone, she breathed, "I want to be your wife." Which was the truth, she did want to make their mating a permanent deal; she just didn't think it would actually happen.

Her answer seemed to please him, as he initiated another round of sensuous lovemaking that had her lost in their sea of passion once again. When they were finally sated, they fell into a much needed, restful sleep. Mac awoke first and was glad for it. She knew she needed to get going. Romdel would be expecting her shortly. Honestly, she was a little worried about Romdel's state of mind. She had hurt him pretty badly, but she'd been desperate. Mac feared he would want some kind of revenge or would extract some kind of extra of added commitment from her to make her pay for her attack on him.

She stealthy pulled herself out of her lover's possessive, yet comforting hold, and tiptoed to the bathroom. The genetically engineered woman showered and pulled on one of the Vorloren super soldier uniforms. It disgusted her to put it on; it represented such depravity and loathsomeness, but she had to pretend to be the good little killer Romdel expected her to be. He had demanded she wear the uniform of his pride and joy.

The black made her look pale and washed out. She braided her hair tightly down her back, for she didn't want any of its long, curly pieces in her way. It gave her a harsh appearance that she wasn't fond of, but Romdel would certainly appreciate the look. Physically, she felt better than she had in days. Being with Jonathan was certainly therapeutic. The feeling of being off was gone.

_Jonathan has solved my 'in heat' problem at last_, she thought. It was strange that these last couplings had returned her cycle to normal. Why had they not before now? Why was this time different? Was her 'in heat' cycle now over because of him or because enough time had gone by to return it to normal. It puzzled her, but the super soldier was not going to dwell on it. Mac had meant to ask Jonathan about what Phlox had discovered from his scans, but he'd cut their conversation short with his tantalizing distraction. The transgenic had more important and pressing things to worry about at the moment anyway. Explanations would have to wait for later, if there was a later.

She also hoped that now Trip would be back to normal and that he and Jonathan could find a way to deal with what they had tried to do to each other. She would leave it up to them to handle it. The super soldier had a more immediate problem to work on right now, so she couldn't afford to try and help out. Mac felt true sorrow at the pain she had caused them both. For when Jonathan woke up and came to a full realization of what he had done to Trip and Trip to him, he would feel terrible. She hated that she was the cause of it all. Hopefully, the two men's friendship would hold them together and see them through the tense moments to come. She had faith that it would, and if she did see Trip again, she'd throw herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness, but she doubted she'd be able to see him.

Mac was invigorated otherwise, her mind perfectly clear. Her feral nature was in sync with her human nature. They were ready to work side by side. It was an amazing sensation. She felt stronger than she ever had. She prayed these conditions would last and that her plan would succeed. It had to, for there was no other choice.

Walking to the door of her quarters, Mac's gaze went to the bedroom where Archer still slept. She knew he needed it. It was better this way; she didn't like goodbyes. She loved him so much it hurt to breathe when she thought of him. She silently thanked whoever had put them together for the precious time they had shared. Jonathan had tipped the scales in her angelic side's favor. He was her miracle, proof that some higher power was looking out for her. She just wished she could have actually become his wife. A few, wet tears fell down her face. No matter what happened, she now how the sweet memories of Jonathan to fill her senses with, instead of those of the wicked Khan. Captain Archer had not only touched her soul, he had saved it. He had brought her out the darkness and into the light.

Finally, Mac made herself leave. She let her eyes grow wolfen amber and she elongated her teeth and nails; it was show time. As she walked down the hallway, she was aware of a regular Vorloren soldier following slowly behind her. It made sense that Romdel would want her to have an escort to make sure she made it to their meeting. Mac had made sure that she was going to be early. She did not want to risk any more of Romdel's vindictive wrath than she knew she already had.

She sniffed the air to get a sense of the alien. She couldn't detect any ammonia smell. The soldier had almost no smell at all. That was odd. Every living thing had a scent. Mac dropped her pace and let the soldier catch up to her. She still could catch no scent. Something tingled at the base of her skull; something wasn't right here. Just as the Vorloren soldier came abreast of her, she picked up a faint smell, but it was definitely not ammonia. In fact, she swore it was a sickly, sweet burnt sugar smell. This soldier was not Vorloren at all; he was a Suliban in disguise. The hackles on Mac's neck rose, and she made to strike out at the imposter. He was ready for her attack and blocked it.

"Easy there, McKenna, I am not here to hurt you," a low, recognizably arrogant voice told her. "If you will let me explain, there will be not need for any more violence. I am still recovering from the bar you impaled me with." Mac backed away from the alien as he shifted from the translucentness of a Vorloren, to the neon green of a Suliban. True to her guess, it was Silik that now stood before her.

"What in the hell do you want, you slimy bastard?" she greeted him with contempt.

"You really should watch your language," Silik said as he grinned smugly at her. "Someone might think you don't like me."

"Then they would be right," Mac spat at him. "What do you want?" she asked again.

"My benefactor from the future would like to talk to you, before you go off to battle and do something foolish," Silik said, clearly anticipating the super soldier's reaction to this revelation.

All Mac could do was stare at him dumbfounded; words had left her completely. Silik seemed very pleased with himself. "I thought that would get your attention, my dear," Silik gloated. "Come with me to Romdel's secret, little holographic chamber and you can see the future being for yourself."

TBC

**Please keep reading; a really big reveal is coming in the next chapter. What is the verdict on this chapter? Was it fitting or not? Leave a review and let me know. Thanks.**


	29. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Okay, this chapter is the big reveal I've been building up to. A lot of questions are answered, but some new ones will spring up as well. Here readers learn who I think Future Guy is and why he is interfering so strongly in the events taking place in my story. I made the conversation between Future Guy and Mac in a flashback form, so that is why it is all in italics. Other things about Mac and Archer are revealed as well. Little bread crumbs I've been leaving through out other chapters will bear fruit in this chapter. Did any one see these ideas coming? Some of you intuitive readers out there might have. I've hinted subtly at things, but always kept back some part. Hopefully, this will be a fun and entertaining chapter. It was one of my favorites to write. Please leave a review to tell me what you think. I only got one or two reviews the last few chapters, and that was sad. :( I know this is a long story; it is supposed to be long and complicated. Please hang in there with me, and you won't be disappointed; at least, I hope not. Thanks!!!!**

**Thanks once again to my awesome beta reader LadyRainbow. She always does such a good job of cleaning up my messes. Read and enjoy!!!!**

**Chapter 28**

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed didn't know how the situation had gotten so bad, for the _Enterprise_ had been so quickly invaded. It seemed like Suliban were coming out of the woodwork, or would that be metalwork? Reed and his team were cut off from the armory, and other security teams had failed to make it to the bridge. As the Suliban weapons' fire flew passed his head, Reed cursed for about the hundredth time. Communications had been jammed, so Reed had no way of knowing what was happening around the ship. The MACOs and his own security forces had tried valiantly to stop the sudden influx of Suliban, but their enemy was too fast and too stealthy.

Somehow, yet again, the Suliban had managed to board the _Enterprise_ without being detected until it was too late, using their camouflage and stretching ability. They had knocked out many of the ESP conduits and main power for the ship was down. The Suliban's enhanced vision allowed them to see in the dark, as if it were noonday; the only reason that Reed and the MACOs had been able to hold them off for as long as they had was because of the MACOs forethought of carrying night vision goggles with them.

So far it seemed that the Suliban's weapons were set only on stun. Of the men and women downed by the aliens, none of them were dead, that Reed could tell. That was a great relief, for after the last attack, Reed had feared the worst. Suddenly a neon green face appeared right next to him and a fist threw him to the floor. When Reed tried to fight back, he was hit with a full-on stun blast. He crumpled to the ground, out cold.

"Take him to the bridge with the other senior officers," a harsh male voice commanded as the dozen or so Suliban warrior decloaked themselves. "Kajine will want him there."

Several minutes later they dumped Reed's unconscious form at T'Pol's feet as she sat in the captain's chair. She, along with Hoshi, Travis, and the rest of the bridge crew were surrounded by another two-dozen Suliban armed with phase weapons. One of the Suliban held something under the lieutenant's noise, and he was instantly awake again. A tall and slim Suliban female finally spoke. She directed her remarks to T'Pol. "I am Kajine of the Cabal."

"I think we figured that one out for ourselves," Hoshi blurted out sarcastically. "Only the Cabal would attack in such vicious and underhanded ways."

T'Pol stopped the communications officer from going any further. "That is enough, Ensign." Then she addressed her captor. "What is it that you want from us?"

Kajine regarded the Vulcan woman for a moment. The Suliban female was well aware of T'Pol's "feelings" for Commander Tucker. The Suliban had grown to like the human male; she could understand his appeal. "I apologize for such a use of force, but we have little time and cannot afford to take the time to convince you of our good intentions. We ambushed you because we didn't think you would listen to us otherwise."

"A logical assumption on your part," T'Pol told the Suliban with a raised eyebrow. "Our last encounter with your species almost forfeited the lives of many of our key personnel."

"That was a very regrettable incident, but it was not done out of malice or ill will. Our intention was not to kill any of your people. We were trying to aid McKenna in overcoming her more feral nature," Kajine explained. "I have been ordered to help you make contact with the Lasiterians. I understand that because of our earlier actions you and your people would be highly resistant to dealing with us again. I can only ask that you let us make amends now by allowing us facilitate your meeting with the Lasiterians."

T'Pol was unconvinced of the Suliban's real intentions. "How would assisting us benefit you or the being you serve?"

Kajine was under orders to be cryptic with her answers to any of the questions the _Enterprise's _crew might throw at her, but subterfuge and half-truths were not working. The Suliban knew she had to give a more concrete answer than those above her would wish, if she was going to win the crew's trust. "I have been charged with protecting McKenna at all costs. She is planning on going off to battle, but it is a battle she will not win. My benefactor from the future cannot risk any harm to come to her, especially harm that would end her life. She must live."

"Why is she so important to your mystery man from the future? Why is he causing you to interfere in all the events taking place here?" This came from Hoshi.

Kajine grew silent. Only she and Silik knew the full reasoning behind what their benefactor was doing. She could not divulge _that_ critical information. It could destroy the entire future, as her master knew it. So would Mac's death, if the Suliban warrior didn't complete her mission with the crew of the_ Enterprise_. "McKenna must survive. If we can help you get to the Lasiterians, gain their trust, and warn them of the Vorlorens' true designs before it is too late, then McKenna will not have to risk her life in a lost battle."

"You know for certain that she won't succeed and that the Vorlorens will end up slaughtering all the Lasiterians?" Reed finally found his voice. He was on his feet now, but he had to hold on to the arm of captain's chair to steady himself.

Kajine looked Reed straight in the eye and said, "Yes."

"How does it happen? Why can't Mac stop the Vorlorens?" Hoshi was full of fiery questions.

Kajine had had enough of the humans' need to understand what was going to happen. "I cannot give you details about a possible future, only that you have the ability to fix what is going to happen. Events should not be going down this path. Somehow the timeline is changing and the results are not good. If you want our assistance we must act now. The attack will be launched in just a few hours. We are wasting valuable time. You need to make a decision."

T'Pol slowly glanced at each of the senior officers present. All of them looked back at her with their eyes full of doubt mixed with resentment. The Captain had made it plain to her that meeting with the Lasiterians was a critical mission; one which he had entrusted to his first officer. The Suliban in front of her was offering to ameliorate the chances of that mission's success, but trusting these aliens was problematic at this point. T'Pol realized she was letting her agony and anger over Trip's recent condition to cloud her judgment. As a Vulcan this was an unacceptable slip in logic and reason. Working with the Suliban now was the only logical course of action that was presenting itself. Who else would she and the rest of the crew receive assistance from?

T'Pol made the command decision; she knew Archer would have come to the same conclusion that she had. "We accept your offer to help us meet with the Lasiterians. Your stealth capabilities would be most welcome to us."

"You have made the correct decision, Commander." Kajine seemed to relax as she took in T'Pol's answer. "It is nice to know that your Vulcan calmness and sound reasoning are still the stronger part of your being."

When Reed opened his mouth to speak, T'Pol thought it would be in protest, but he swallowed his disagreement and asked instead, "What do you propose we do? How do you suggest we go about our task successfully?"

Kajine turned to him with a new look of respect on her brightly colored face. Maybe these humans were more adaptable than she had been led to believe. "We plan on loaning you two of our cell ships that have cloaking devices installed in them. That way we can accommodate at least three of your people and three of ours, for a total of six. The smaller the contingent the better; the less likely we will be detected by any Vorloren surveillance. My men will pilot the cell ships and provide your people with transportation. Your people should initiate the contact with Lasiterians. My men will hang back in supporting positions only. It is not our intention to directly deal with the Lasiterians ourselves. That is your responsibility."

"You interfere with everything else that is going on here, but you don't want to deal directly with the Lasiterians? Why?" Hoshi just couldn't leave it alone. She had to know.

"Our benefactor realized the mistake he made trying to use the Vorlorens to further his agenda. It is a mistake he doesn't intent to make again. He has forbidden us from having any contact with the Lasiterians," Kajine expounded thinly. The last part she said with great pride. "He has learned that only the Suliban are trustworthy enough to carry out his wishes."

Hoshi rolled her eyes at the statement and received a cold glare from T'Pol. Then the Vulcan first officer returned her attention to the puffed up Suliban. "I suggest that your men take Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Sato, and Ensign Mayweather. They are the ones who had the greatest success at breaking the Lasiterians coded message, and they work well as a team. I am needed here commanding the _Enterprise_ in Captain Archer's absence."

"Again I am relieved at your sound judgment, T'Pol," Kajine said with true respect. "You're reasoning matches my own." The Suliban warrior experienced an odd moment of compassion towards the Vulcan woman. She added, "The last time I saw Commander Tucker he was in good condition. You don't need to worry excessively about him." Little did Kajine know about the knockdown, drag-out fight he had recently had with his captain.

"Vulcans are not prone to 'worry excessively' about anyone, but I thank you for the information," T'Pol replied. She was not about to admit that she feared greatly about Trip's status. She had felt nothing through her bond with him for almost a week now. At one time that fact would have been extremely welcome, as the chief engineer could be a nuisance at times, but now T'Pol missed his comforting presence terribly. Oh how she truly hated not being able to control or suppress these irrational emotions!

"If your Lieutenant Reed is feeling up to it, he and the others should leave with us immediately," Kajine spoke proprietarily.

"Should I expect you to be leaving some of your men behind, or will you order them all to return to your ships?" T'Pol asked bluntly.

Kajine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would you agree to let one or two of my men stay aboard the _Enterprise_, so you could be apprised of the situation involving your people? I would only station someone here to allow you be able to communicate with those of your crew who will be traveling with us."

"That doesn't sound too unreasonable," T'Pol told her. "I propose I keep three of your men here in exchange for the three of my people going with you." That idea seemed like a logical and fair trade to T'Pol. She wanted make sure she had a little leverage to get her friends back aboard _Enterprise_ safely.

Kajine didn't miss the underlying message in T'Pol's counteroffer. "I think your proposal will work to our mutual benefit, Commander. We will teleport your people to our ships, using our technology. Even cloaked, trying to dock in your shuttle bay might be detected by the Vorlorens. Neither one of us can afford to have that happen."

"May I have a moment to give members of our away group some instructions?" T'Pol now asked.

"Of course," Kajine replied. "Just do it quickly. We are running out of time."

* * *

Mac stood with Romdel and Hister in Sinova's command center viewing a projected, three-dimensional, topographical map of the Lasiterians' supposed base camp. They, along with the head commander of the Vorloren super soldiers, a General Rosna Manglin, were strategizing their attack plan against the Lasiterians. He was not a genetically engineered super soldier himself, but he was the best of the Vorloren generals. He had attained landslide victories over the Lasiterians over the last three decades. This Vorloren was perfect to watch over Romdel's newly formed super soldier army, for Manglin had earned the right to command them, along with Mac.

The human super soldier only had half of her highly attuned attention on the conference going on in front of her. It was enough that she knew exactly what was being said, but it allowed the other half to be elsewhere. Mac could not stop thinking about her conversation with Future Guy. _That being sure dumped a number on me_, she thought to herself. The inner turmoil that she had considered herself finally rid of was back a hundred fold. She thought she'd made all the important decisions she needed to make. Mac was still at peace with her demon, but not with her decision to battle the Vorlorens and save the Lasiterians.

The genetically engineered super soldier thought she knew exactly what she had to do, until half an hour ago. Future Guy had turned her world and her focus completely upside down. It wasn't fair. She wished she had never let Silik lead her into the holographic chamber. Ignorance had been bliss; that bliss had been irrevocably shattered by the future being's revelations. Mac now had to rethink all of her previous plans she had been so confident about before. What Future Guy had shared with her, had shaken her to her very core. His deep and calm voice still hadn't left her.

_When Mac had walked into the holographic chamber, Future Guy had been waiting for her. He stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a bluish, pulsating light. It shimmered like an ocean wave, starting down low and rippling slowly up to the top. He kept himself in shadow, at first, not allowing her to see his true form. He was humanoid, there was no doubt about that, but Mac couldn't make out any distinct features, even with her enhanced vision. The warmth with which he had greeted her with had stunned her. _

"_McKenna, my beauty, it is an absolute honor to be able to meet you face to face. I have dreamed of this moment for so long. I am talking to a living legend," he gushed._

_Mac felt herself blush at his flattery. Her a legend? She couldn't quite grasp that concept. "Who are you? How do you know me?" was all she could say._

_"Surely Archer has told you about me?" Future Guy questioned with an amused tone._

_"All I know is that you come from sometime in the future and you have given Jonathan nothing but trouble," Mac heard herself say. The situation didn't seem real._

_Future Guy smiled. Yes, Mac saw him smile. Was that a slip or did he intentionally let her see that small gesture? "It figures Archer would be vague and misconstrue my character. It is true; I am from the future, about the twenty-ninth century to be exact." He paused to let his words sink in. They did._

_"Holy shit!" Mac exclaimed in a whisper. "You really are Future Guy."_

_The veiled being before her chuckled right out loud. It was a friendly, hearty sound. "It seems the crew of the __Enterprise__ have a creative streak in them. You, my dear, can call me Jack."_

_Mac couldn't keep her flippant response from coming out of her mouth. "What? Was Bob or Steve not original enough for you?"_

_Jack laughed robustly now. "You are truly a delight to converse with, McKenna," he said when he had recovered himself. "It is not often that I get to talk with someone with such a sense of humor. This is better than I could have ever imagined." _

_Mac had just stared at the cloaked being for a moment, and then she found her voice enough to ask, "Why does talking to me give you such a thrill?"_

_"Because, my dear, it is not every day that you get to talk to one of your ancestors, long since dead," Jack told her._

_The genetically engineered woman felt her mouth hit the floor. Her knees weakened and she started to fall downward. Silik deftly caught her and held her upright. "Say that again?" she croaked out._

_Mac saw Jack smile again. It would have lit up his entire face, if she could have seen it. "You, McKenna McKnight, are my twenty-second great-grandmother. Now do you understand why you are so important to me? I exist because of you. You are my direct ancestor. Many of the genes that you posses, I posses as well."_

_Silik was enjoying this. Supporting the powerful super soldier as she absorbed the information was a treat. Mac could not believe her genetically enhanced hearing. Future Guy was a descendant of hers? How was that possible? She had never had any children. With Khan she had taken very careful precautions not to get pregnant, even though it had been the dictator's deepest wish. There was no way in hell she going to reproduce with the vile bastard. Their two genomes would have created something extremely volatile and way too unpredictable. Mac knew for certain that before she was cryogenically frozen that she had never had any offspring._

_Then everything hit her at once. The benefactor of the Suliban __had__ tipped the Vorlorens where to find her in the middle of that asteroid field. The future being __had__ lured the __Enterprise __to the Vorloren System, so Jonathan would meet her. The whole reason for the move to the palace __had__ been to help push her and Jonathan together. The Suliban attack on Trip and the others __had __been to help her overcome her demon enough for Jonathan to want to be intimate with her. The whole episode with Silik's voyeurism was so the Suliban could witness her and Jonathan's mating practices because Future Guy __had__ wanted to ensure he would be born. _

_If Future Guy, Jack, was her descendant and he had sent Silik to watch her and Jonathan, then that meant that Jack was also a descendant of Jonathan's, of she and Jonathan to be exact. "Jonathan's your ancestor too?" Mac's voice came out cracked and soft. How could she have not seen it? It was right in front of her the entire time, and she hadn't seen it. Mac suddenly felt silly and dim-witted._

_"Yes, my dear, unfortunately yes," Jack replied. "I now regret some of my earlier actions that could have cost him his life. It wasn't until a short time ago that I traced my family tree back to him. You, I have known about for a very long time, but it was not known, until recently, that you had ever had any contact with Archer. I hate to admit that I was a bit disappointed. I was hoping your time with the great Khan Noonien Singh would have produced a child; to be his descendant would have been marvelous."_

_Mac shuddered at Jack's praise of Khan. How could he want to be a part of that evil megalomaniac? Jonathan was a much better choice for a father figure than Khan Noonien Singh. "You wouldn't think that if you had known him the way that I knew him," she told the future being bluntly. "He was a cold-blooded murderer, and he thought way too much of himself."_

_"His aims and goals were noble. He wanted to lift the human race out of its deplorable state and lead them in safety and peace," Jack spoke with true worship in his voice._

_Mac shook her head. "He wanted to force everyone to do what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted. His idea of leadership was purely tyrannical. He would make everyone behave or he would eliminate them. He took away people's right to choose their own way of life. He took way people's right to liberty and freedom. He tried to enslave the world."_

_"I am sorry you feel that way." Jack truly did sound disappointed. "But to many he is a hero, someone to emulate. It would have been an honor to have been related to him."_

_As Jack was speaking, Mac had another realization. She had been "in heat" from the moment she had been revived. Her body desperately wanting what came natural to a woman, a baby. Now, however, she no longer felt like she was; the urgency was gone. Her feeling of being off had disappeared after her last mating with Jonathan. That could only mean one thing, that and the fact that Jack was able to stand before her now and chat with her; she was pregnant. Mac had been so vigilant with Khan, but not at all with Jonathan. She loved him; she didn't fear him, like she had Khan. How could she forget that main purpose of mating was to perpetuate the species? In other words, how could she have not known consciously what her body obviously knew unconsciously? Part of her animal and human nature, as a female, was to bear children._

_Both Silik and his benefactor had watched the emotions dance across Mac's face as she put all the pieces together. "I'm pregnant," she stated in shock._

_"Thankfully, yes," Jack said with great relief in his deep voice. "It is nice to be confident of one's existence, even if its start wasn't what one thought it had been," he added as a side note. "That is why I asked Silik to bring you here. I must implore you to not go into battle. You cannot risk harm to come to you or the child you now carry with in you. Millions of your descendants are counting on your survival." Jack decided to throw the last bit in as a guilt trip. He knew his ancestor very well. Besides, he didn't want Mac to think it was __all__ about him; most, but not all._

_"Millions?" Mac said with a tongue that felt too big for her mouth. Even her genetically enhanced mind was having a hard time comprehending all that she was learning. How could this be? Was she truly responsible for posterity that number in the millions?_

_"It is surprising the kind of exponential growth two people can have over the centuries, isn't it?" Jack asked her, trying to be helpful. "I am sorry to have to surprise you with all of this, but you need to have all facts laid out in front of you to make the right decisions."_

_Mac genuinely couldn't believe any of this was happening; not in her wildest dreams did she ever see a future for herself like the one this being was revealed to her. "Are my child --- descendants all okay? I mean with my capricious nature and all?" She was envisioning all the horrors that her transgenic brothers and sisters went through._

_Jack seemed pleased with her question. He knew he was getting to her by the fact that she wanted to know more about her "family". "Why do you think I have been trying to help you overcome your darker side? Once you conquer it, you, as a mother, are able to teach your children and their children's children how to live at peace with themselves. Eventually it is not a problem. Other sources of genetic material also help in diminishing the more feral parts of your nature."_

_"Then you really weren't trying to kill Trip and the others, but you wanted me to have to choose to help. You wanted me to be willing to sacrifice myself for somebody else. You knew that above all else would aid me in winning my inner battle," Mac said with a little awe in her voice._

_"Yes," Jack said, "but that was not what was supposed to happen in the original timeline. The first time around you did not need such a hard push in the right direction. Archer's influence had been enough to guide you there pretty gently. In my zealousness to make sure that you and Archer came together I didn't realize that very inference would change events. I should have never brought the Vorlorens into the equation. Romdel has proven to be a disloyal, little traitor. I underestimated his treacherousness, and it almost cost me dearly._

_"For a short time I feared that Commander Tucker would be a relation after I had one of my Suliban agents sneak him in to Sinova to help you overcome Romdel's drug. You and he were never supposed to take a romantic interest in each other. A close friendship you were to have, yes, but not a sexual relationship. You were never supposed to be exposed to the drug that Romdel inflicted upon you. For that I beg your forgiveness," Jack had confessed all. "I am so pleased that you were still strong enough to force your darker nature away and gain control of yourself. You are utterly amazing."_

"_How did Jonathan and I meet in the original timeline?" Mac wanted to know._

"_It is of little importance now," Jack said brushing off her question. "What is important is that you have met and that you are with child. It is miraculous that it happened. To think that I almost wiped myself out before even my most distant relation was born."_

_Mac couldn't stop the dig from coming out of her mouth. She was having a hard time restraining her thoughts around this descendant of hers. "It serves you right for trying to mess around with time. You are as bad as the scientists that messed with the human genome and caused the Eugenics Wars and eventually World War III."_

_"I understand your anger," Jack's voice took on an apologetic tone, "but I have my reasons for interfering with timelines. History, in some places, needs to be rewritten. We, in the future, have the ability to do so, and we can fix many of the events that would make our lives so much the richer."_

_The human super soldier had started to become really angry then. He was beginning to sound a lot like Khan. "Just because you have the ability to do something doesn't mean you should. What gives you the right to rewrite the past just because you don't like the outcome in the future? How can a descendant of mine think such things? Did you ever stop and think that some things happen for a reason and that they shouldn't be changed?"_

_"McKenna, my dear, don't be so judgmental." Jack sounded a little hurt by her remarks. "What I do is not just for me, but for a large part of the galaxy, and for a variety of different species."_

_"Don't try and justify your actions to me, Jack," Mac snapped. "You do more harm than good." She had finally regained her senses, and she shook Silik off harshly. The Suliban wisely took a step back from her. "What if some of the life events you change undoes much of the good that came with the bad? What if you take away experiences from people that they needed to make them who they are supposed to be? Or put them in circumstances they were never meant to face?"_

_Suddenly, she saw Jack's eyes. They were a beautiful, dark blue color. He was looking at her in astonishment; she had now shocked him. "You don't act anything like I thought you would. I had such a vision conjured of you. I thought you would think more broadly than you do. Archer must have really corrupted you, changed you too much."_

_His eyes reminded Mac of someone, she couldn't place who, but there was a faint trace of something familiar in them. "Jonathan hasn't corrupted me. My father," she finally was able to say that phrase with pride, "instilled something good in me. All the things he taught me; the stories he told me. He gave me a strong foundation that Jonathan has only added to. I know what is right and I know what is wrong. You, my dear Jack, are wrong. I wish you could see your own corruption. I wish you believed differently." She had to make this child of her line see the errors of his ways._

_"Are you going to follow my advice or not?" Jack had then asked in a clipped manner. It was obvious the discussion about the path he had followed was over._

_"You mean to turn my back on people who desperately need my help?" Mac was indignant. "I don't think so."_

_Jack decided to go for the direct approach. "You will not succeed. You will fight and die and change nothing. The Vorlorens will wipe out the Lasiterians' existence and you will be dead. You can't sacrifice the future of millions of people for a lost cause. That, my beautiful McKenna, is wrong."_

_He had her there. If he was right about the outcome of the battle, how could she kill off an entire nation of her own people with nothing to show for it, some greater good? "Are you sure there is no way to save the Lasiterians?" she whispered, her anger gone._

_"I know how important it is for you to have a purpose, McKenna," Jack spoke soothingly to her. "I know you wanted it to be heroically saving this poor, unfortunate race of people, but it can't be done that way. The Vorlorens have reached the point of no return in their deadly plans. There is no stopping them now. If they could be saved, I wouldn't try to stop you; I would try to do everything in my power to help you." He paused before he unfolded his plan to her; he had to be subtle. "There is another way besides battle. What little population of the Lasiterians is left can be spared if they are warned in time to flee the attack. In fact, I have agents now aiding some of Archer's crew in trying to at least warn the Lasiterians of the impending attack, so they might be able to flee and live out their lives far away from here. I owe you that much."_

_"But Romdel's super soldier army can't be beaten?" Mac heard the defeat in her voice. She didn't want to let the monstrous Vorlorens scatter the Lasiterians across the galaxy, but she also wanted the Lasiterians to survive in any way possible._

_Jack quickly seized on her doubt. "No, they cannot. Their construction is too perfect, and their multitude is too great for even such as you." The Suliban benefactor went on trying to sway her to do what he wanted her to do. "You can still have purpose. You can still make a difference. Flee with the Lasiterians. They will need all the leadership and guidance you can offer them. Live among them, direct them, help them, and raise your child with them. Then you will allow all of your countless family members to fulfill their destinies as they need to be fulfilled."_

_"What about Jonathan?" Mac hadn't missed that Jack didn't mentioned living out her life with the human captain._

_"This is going to be hard for you to hear, but I must tell you all." Future Guy spoke softly for the next sentence, "You cannot tell Archer about your child."_

_"What?!" Mac shouted. "Why?! He's its father!"_

_"Think carefully about the situation, McKenna," Jack ordered gently. "Archer is a starship captain. His ship and crew will always come first. He has many great endeavors still to perform as well. Events, that if he isn't a part of them, won't happen, and the very fabric of the future and the galaxy as we know it will be undone. Sadly, these events do not include you as a wife and your child as a family. That would only hold him back from his true destiny. He must be allowed to complete his life's path without you, for all our sakes."_

_Mac had been afraid Jack would say something like that. Deep down, she knew in a twisted way he was right. Jonathan's faint hope of having her travel amongst the stars with him was, at best, a hollow dream. His superiors would never allow it. They would recall him to Earth and force him to take permanent shore leave, if he wed her. He would not be allowed to explore the wonders of space anymore. They would never approve of a dangerous relic of the Eugenics Wars to run wild through out the galaxy. She would be held in "protective custody" and "studied". She couldn't let that happen to Jonathan or herself, and now she had a child to think about. The child could be taken from her. Oh God, how could this all have gone so wrong, so fast?_

_"It would be better for me not to say anything to Jonathan about the child, to ease his decision to leave me behind and live his life," Mac said when she had realized what Jack was trying to tell her. "It's a burden he doesn't need to bear. What he doesn't know will free him. He can't stay with me."_

_"There is an old Earth saying, 'If you love something, let it go.' I think that is what you need to do. If you need to sacrifice anything to be heroic, sacrifice your life with Archer, so both your futures will be bright, as well as all those whose futures you will be responsible for," Jack told her quietly._

_Mac looked at her future descendant, feeling the familiarity of his dark blue eyes again. "Why should I believe a word you say? You won't even let me see what or who you really are. Why should I trust you?" Mac wasn't born yesterday; all this could be a big lie._

_"Leave the chamber, Silik," Future Guy had commanded his servant._

_Silik looked taken aback by this order, like he hadn't been expecting it. "Sir?" he questioned._

_"You heard me, Silik. Leave now." The future being let no room for argument._

_"As you wish," Silik said and gave Mac an ugly look. Then he was gone._

_"You are the only person I would ever show myself to," Jack said very seriously. "I only do it to convince you that I am really only trying to look out for you. Despite the fact that we have differing views on time travel, I still love you. You remain my hero. The person I have most wanted to be like. You are my family and I am yours. We belong to each other. I only want what is best for you. Please believe what I tell you and listen to me." With that he had taken on real shape and form. The shadow effect faded, and Mac had seen what Future Guy really looked like._

After that Mac had felt drained. Part of her believed her progeny and part of her wanted to deny and pick apart what he had told her. In revealing his true identity, or what he really looked like had been a leap of faith on his part, faith in her. What she saw blew her mind. He had offered her just enough proof of his sincerity that her mind was filled with doubt about everything; her abilities, her training, her feelings about Khan, her love for Jonathan, and most of all, her recent choices. The sudden burst of faith in a being great than herself was slowly fading. It now appeared that Future Guy had controlled all of the events in her life of late, not some divine providence. Mac felt a little angry and a little betrayed. There was no soft voice now, no feeling of love or comfort; it was like she had been abandoned in her hour of need.

Where was the guidance of what was right and what was wrong? Why was she not getting a prompting to help her to know what to do? The human super soldier felt like the rug had been pulled abruptly out from under her and she had landed hard on her ass. What had she done now to deserve this? Hadn't she been trying to do the right thing? Why was her purpose being taken away from her? Why did she need to take a different path? She had been so sure before. She had sincerely thought she had known what course to take. Now everything was a confused mess.

The worst thing was that her dread of losing Jonathan had been made manifest. She would have to let him go, and it was killing her inside. Dying and leaving him knowing she had saved many others was one thing, but to live, and to live without him was devastating. The light she had walked into was now growing dim, and the darkness was calling her name once again.

Jack had instructed Silik to continue his masquerade as a Vorloren soldier and find a way to return Archer and Tucker to the _Enterprise_. Silik would be their escape plan. Mac would go and play the good little killer, until the Suliban could also extract her. She had to keep Romdel and the Vorlorens occupied to give Archer's people time to try and warn the Lasiterians. So here she was, standing in front of this damned map, working out how to best slaughter the Lasiterians' army. Pretending to be the Chimera was not really that much of an act now. The genetically engineered woman was royally pissed off. She took comfort in the slow building wrath inside her heart. Rage had always served to protect her in the past, she didn't see why it wouldn't now.

TBC

**Now please tell me what you think. This is a very key part of the whole story. How does my vision of Future Guy go over with readers? Leave a review and make my day. Thanks!!!!**


	30. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: I kind of left Trip and Archer in a bad spot, so I took part of this chapter to mend their fences after their big brawl. And Mac's blood has some interesting side effects for Trip. (Part of this is to help fix the horrible ending to the TV series) I've also finally given readers a "window" into the Lasiterians and their society. Remember there are two sides to every war, I mean story. :) Then the last scene deals with Mac and Archer, and how much he can influence her with just a touch. I left the chapter with another bad cliffhanger, because the next chapter has another big reveal in it. Just who is messing with the timeline???? **

**Please leave reviews. I've really been working hard on this story for a year now, and it's very dear to my heart. Its idea is what inspired me to actually start writing and posting. I would just like feedback from readers. Is anybody still reading and are you still enjoying it? Thanks!!!**

**LadyRainbow does such an excellent job in keeping me on track and pointing out my slip ups. Her suggestions really make a difference and a better story. She is the best beta!**

**Chapter 29**

The loud and heavy knocking on his door awoke Archer with a start. Where was he? This room was not his quarters aboard _Enterprise_. As reality reared its revolting head, the Captain groaned. Every part of his anatomy hurt, and his throat was dry. Mac was gone; panic flooded his mind and body. Where was his mate? Where was the woman her loved? The knocking came more urgently this time and more loudly.

Then a muffled voice came through the door. "Cap'n, its Trip. I need to talk to you right away. Can I come in?"

Trip? What was he doing here? Archer's mind still refused to form any coherent thoughts. Then he remembered the fisticuffs he and Trip had earlier in the evening. The Captain hoped the chief engineer was okay; both he and Trip had beaten each other up pretty roughly. Archer didn't know how to face his friend, because he was so ashamed of his actions. He'd almost killed Trip; if Mac hadn't gotten through to him, he didn't know what would have happened. Oh, Mac! Where was she?

"Jon, please, let me in. Please don't hate me," Trip pleaded on the other side of the door. "We really need to talk about what happened earlier. Don't shut me out."

Archer stiffly shoved the blankets covering him aside and tried to slide out of bed. As he did so, he caught Mac's scent from where she'd lain beside him. It filled his senses and caused his heart to ache. As Trip pounded on the door a third time, the Captain wrapped the bedcover around himself and hobbled to the door. Surprisingly, he found he could open it, and when he did, he found a frantic Trip surrounded by five or six Vorloren soldiers.

"Oh, Jon, thank God!" Trip exclaimed. "I thought you'd never wanna talk to me again. You must be pretty pissed at me. I don't blame you. I wouldn't even feel bad if you court-martialed me."

Archer just stood in the doorway and stared at Trip because the commander didn't have a single scratch on him. Even though the Captain knew that he had inflicted some heavy damage to his chief engineer, his friend showed no sign of injury. He had no broken noise, no black eyes, no bloody lip, nor bruises, cuts, abrasions, or anything of the sort, anywhere on his body. The commander stood in the hallway dressed in a black T-shirt and matching pants without any noticeable difficulty, but Archer swore he had broken some of Trip's ribs.

"Can I please come in?" Trip asked his traumatized captain. "I don't like standin' here with all these guards gawkin' at us."

Finally, Archer snapped out of his daze. "Yeah, come in," he said and moved to let Trip travel through the open door. He shut it as soon as Trip was in the room because he also wanted to leave Trip's escorts out in the hall. "You look good, Trip," was all Archer could think to say.

Trip's gaze took in the bruised and beaten body of his captain. Mac had treated Archer's wounds, but there were still red welts, blue and purple marks, and swollen tissue that needed more time to heal. "You look like hell," Trip said half jokingly.

"Thanks to you," Archer replied equally joking and serious.

The two friends fell silent, eyes on the floor for a few moments. Neither one knew quite where to start, for both hated themselves for what had happened. Trip broke first with, "I guess Mac's blood did more than just save my life. It looks like I have a little bit of her ability to heal rather quick."

"I'd say. We might want Phlox to look into that sooner, rather than later. How are you feeling otherwise?" Archer asked. He sat on a black, oversized couch in the living area because the room started to tilt on him.

"Like a complete and total dung pile," Trip replied contritely. "I have no idea what came over me, Jon. I had no conscious control over what I was thinkin' or feelin'. It started out as just a little thing, and then suddenly turned into somethin' that consumed me. Somehow I got it in my head that I just had to have Mac. I knew it wasn't right, but I still had to have her. I didn't really want to fight you over her, but I couldn't help myself. You seemed to be in the way, and I had to do somethin' to clear the path."

Archer smiled weakly at Trip and related all too well to what Trip had experienced around Mac. "Tell me about it. I've been feeling that way about her since I met her. You didn't see me up on the ship. Phlox had to lock me in the decon chamber and keep me sedated because I became so violent over her."

The Captain wasn't about ream Trip out; even though it did slightly bothered him that another male had wanted to take _his_ mate away from him and had challenged him. They were both guilty of giving into the savage inside of them. Archer knew that Trip would never purposely be so disloyal and aggressive against him. Trip was the kind of man that would go out of his way to avoid getting involved with another man's wife or girlfriend. In fact, when one of Phlox's wives had made advances on Trip, he had always acted like a gentleman. Even when Phlox had been encouraging of a relationship with his wife, Trip had still upheld his human morality. Archer trusted Trip with his life and always would. He was the kid brother Archer never had. The Captain secretly envied Trip's large and close-knit family.

Trip's stance eased as no harsh reprimand issued forth out of his friend's mouth. He sat down in a black armchair across from Archer with a black and white marble coffee table resting between them. The chief engineer's attire matched the chair perfectly. Archer wasn't angry with him; in fact, he was empathizing. Trip recalled what Mac had told him about how her beast had boiled over into Archer, and how it had made him act.

"Yeah, but you have a medical excuse. You two are _supposed_ be whacked out around each other, accordin' to Phlox. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did. Mac shouldn't affect my bodily systems at all." Trip waved his hands for emphasis. "I was immune to the Orion females 'cause of T'Pol, and God forgive me for sayin' it," Trip rolled his eyes upward, "her Vulcaness. Why's Mac any different?"

"Because she is mostly human and so are you," Archer told him.

The Captain explained what Phlox had been trying to get through to him. He really had been listening to the good doctor, just not willingly. It seemed that Mac was "in heat" and like the animal parts of her genetic makeup, her body sent out pheromonal signals to any and all males within access to her. These chemical and hormonal signals reached deep into the primitive parts of any male she came into contact with activating within them the desire to mate as well, increasing their pheromonal responses. Because Mac's body had been on hold for so long, having been in cryo, it decided to turn on the drive to mate on full blast.

"I don't think Mac consciously knew she was broadcasting to every male around her. The drive must have grown stronger and stronger within her the longer we were apart and because of that hideous drug Romdel gave her. Like I said, Phlox about killed me because of my bad behavior," Archer finished.

"Maybe I was more susceptible to her because of the blood transfusion she gave me," Trip said as a light came on in his mind. "I guess I do kinda have a link to her body chemistry now. Whatever's in her blood is a part of me now; it's obviously given me an advantage in recoverin' from injury. Who knows what else it is doin', or will do? I am so sorry I lost control, Cap'n. You're one of my best friends, and I'd never in my right mind wanna harm you."

"Me either, Trip," Archer said sincerely. "I almost killed you. I think I would have, if Mac hadn't brought me to my senses in time. I'm sorry I hurt you both with my fists… and my words."

Trip's dark, lake blue eyes glisten with tears because he was so relieved that Archer didn't hate him. He shook his head as he said, "When I'd realized what I'd done, I was so ashamed. The things I said. I didn't mean any of it."

"I'm sorry I make you feel like you have to compete with me all the time," the Captain said with some contriteness of his own, bowing his head. He hadn't realized that in his own need to excel, he was putting pressure on his friend. Archer then raised his head and looked Trip squarely in the eye. "I don't do it on purpose. I just always feel like I have to push myself at everything. I could never work my way around a warp reactor like you do, Trip. You have skills and abilities all your own, that I couldn't even begin to have. You can drink me under the table too," Archer added the last with a light chuckle.

"That's true." Trip accepted the compliment, and then confessed, "You haveta admit that Mac's an exquisite woman too. She's hard to resist _without_ any outside influence actin' on me. When the Chimera was in control and you weren't around she, ah, kinda went after me."

"She did, did she?" Archer asked and raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, and I was the perfect gentleman for as long as I could be." Trip wanted everything out on the table. "I was gonna give into her, but luckily, she came to her senses first, and from then on all she wanted was _you_."

Archer frowned for a moment, and Trip thought he was going to get it, but he was wrong. "Mac told me that it was because of you that she was able to overcome the drug and her demon. You at least started her transformation, made her take a long, hard look at herself. I think whatever happened between you two down here was for the best. I am grateful that you were there for her because you did what I wasn't able to. I trust you, Trip. You would have done the right thing no matter what weaknesses you think you have. I can't fault you for what I see in myself."

"So you don't hate me or wanna send me to the brig?" Trip asked hopefully.

"Nope," the Captain replied, still a little dizzy. "In fact, let us chalk this all up to being under a foreign influence and call that good."

"Ya know, I feel perfectly fine and normal now. I take it you and Mac were able to, uh, balance each other out again?" Trip asked with a very male smile spreading across his face.

Archer smiled the same male smile back as he remembered being in bed with Mac. "I guess so." He thought for a minute about what Trip had said. "You don't feel compelled to be with Mac anymore?"

"No, I don't, but then I'm not up close and personal with her right now either," Trip answered confused, but thankful. He cared deeply for Mac, but he was sure glad he was himself again. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Archer looked at Trip for a second before saying, "Let's hope it's a good thing. It may mean that her body and its systems are working normally."

"What about you, are you okay now?" Trip said as he looked his friend's condition over again. Archer looked like he had lost a battle with a bad impulse injection manifold.

"Besides aching from head to toe and a small amount of dizziness, I feel like myself again," Archer answered. "I'm thinking more rationally, and I don't feel the primal rage anymore. That was what scared me the most. I don't know how Mac even begins to try and fight against that kind of violent emotion. I think she is a lot stronger than we give her credit for. She is a remarkable woman in more ways than one."

Trip agreed wholeheartedly. "Where _is_ our beautiful transgenic?"

"Probably with Romdel," Archer almost spat the Vorloren director's name. "She promised to meet with him and his people as soon as she helped me." Now that his mind was clearing up he could recall why Mac wasn't by his side. "I'm really worried about what she's going to do, Trip. We can't let her do it alone. We have to be there when she needs us."

"Did she tell you that she doesn't think she'll come outta this thing alive?" Trip asked, though he could almost count on the fact that she hadn't.

"What?!" Archer exclaimed. "Did she say that to you?" That explained what Mac had been trying to keep him from sensing through their connection, and why she had answered, and at the same time, not answered, his proposal. Mac hadn't wanted the Captain to know of her fear of dying in the upcoming battle.

"Yeah, she did," Trip said honestly.

"I, uh---, I um---, I asked her to be my wife, Trip," Archer finally blurted out, looking at the floor again.

"You're kiddin' me? You didn't? What did she say?" Trip stared at his friend. The chief engineer knew that Archer was powerfully linked to the transgenic, but to actually propose to her blew Trip's mind. Not that he blamed Archer; Mac was incredible. It was just that he'd never seen Jon that serious about a woman before. Yeah sure, he'd dated and had his share of romances, but to actually pop the question, in his career field, surprised Trip. Now here comes along a woman out of the history books, with an unusual set of circumstances, and Archer was ready to settle down with her.

"Yeah, I did." Archer grinned sheepishly. "I'm not sure what her answer was. She didn't say no, but I don't think she gave me a definite yes either. I get the impression now from you that she was trying to hide her fear of dying from me. I can't live without her, Trip. She has got to be a part of my life. I love her."

Trip whistled long and low. "You're in big trouble, Jon."

"I know," was all Archer could say as he shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture.

They then filled each other in on all the events that had transpired while they had been separated. Trip finished his end of the discussion suggesting to the Captain about maybe enlisting the Suliban to help out with contacting the Lasiterians. It would be nice to use them for a change, instead of the other way around.

The chief engineer suddenly looked around the room. "Should we be discussin' any of this so openly?" Trip asked worriedly. "Won't Romdel be monitorin' us?"

"Mac activated some kind of counter transmitter to disguise anything that went on in here," Archer remembered. "I don't think she ever deactivated it, so we're more than likely not going to be overheard."

Trip shook his head, and then stood up to try and locate the little device. It would be fun to get a look at that kind of technology. "She did that when she talked with me too," he said as he looked under the coffee table, and then walked over to the kitchenette area. "She's a smart, little cookie, that one. I don't how she does what she does, but she gets the job done." Then he remembered about her stumbling upon the holographic chamber, which stopped him in mid-search. He quickly told Archer all she suspected about Future Guy and the Suliban interference.

"Great. We have that bastard to thank for this entire mess with the Vorlorens," Archer said disgustedly, shaking his head. "When will he learn to stop meddling with the past? He's doing more harm than good."

"Thanks to him the Vorlorens have a superior soldier army capable of not only conquerin' this star system, but others beyond its borders," Trip said, none to pleased with that idea. He was back to examining the edge to the kitchen counter. He was dying to know where Mac had hidden the counter transmitter.

"Exactly. And that's why we need to help Mac stop them," Archer said as he went to stand up, to join Trip in his search. He tottered a bit, and then sunk back down on the couch.

"Maybe you should lie back down, Cap'n," Trip said, rushing toward Archer from the kitchenette and attempting to assist his friend on the couch.

The Captain tried to wave the commander's worries away. "I'm all right. Just give me a minute." Something about the whole time travel, Temporal Cold War was really bugging him. "You know the last time I saw Daniels, he told me that after we stopped Vosk from getting back to his century that the timeline had reset itself and that the Temporal Cold War had ended. All that is happening here and now is certainly disproving that fact. The Suliban and their benefactor are still hard at work, screwing everything up."

"I was wonderin' why we haven't heard from or gotten a visit from Daniels," Trip voiced his own musings. "You'd think he would wanna help out at least a little bit."

Archer gave Trip a guilty look. "I told him I never wanted to see him again, that he and his temporal agents were to leave me and my crew alone. It seems he took me seriously. I do kind of wish we had his help right now. I don't know how to fix this situation. I don't know if we can pull this off alone."

The door to the living quarters flew open, and the five to six Vorloren guards that had escorted Trip to Mac's residence stormed in. Trip moved to stand in front of his captain, taking a defensive position. "Romdel wants you abroad our transport vessel. You are to come with us," one of the guards ordered curtly.

Archer looked up at Trip and their eyes locked in understanding. Mac had secured them safe passage with her to the battleground. "Can I get dressed first?" The Captain asked sarcastically, using his arm and hand to indicate his bed sheet covering.

"Of course," the guard replied taking in the Captain's disheveled appearance. "But you will hurry. We leave in five minutes."

* * *

Wolachea stood gazing at the distance horizon. He could see the Father Moon, along with the Mother Moon high in the sky as the light of the distance sun slipped from his sight. The sky looked painted with pinks, maroons, and deep reds. Soon the stars that formed the Valley of Spilled Milk would appear and even more stars would come to create the constellation of the Running Mice. This leader of the great and noble Lasiterians was full of apprehension and hope. Deep thoughts caused the creamy skin of his face to crinkle with the stress of tight muscles. The war chief had dark brown eyes and very dark brown hair, almost black. He wore it short, in what an Earthman would consider an almost Roman style, as was the shape and size of his nose. He was tall and thin, but in a lean and strong way. He didn't possess bulging biceps and other oversized muscles, but he had hidden strength.

This man of the people was young to have such a burden of responsibility placed on his sinewy shoulders, but he handled it with the wisdom of someone twice his age. His father had instructed him well before his death, and Wolachea was determined to live up to his late father's expectations. He was silently praying to the Great Spirit for the courage and patience he needed to face what was ahead. He and his people had been eager for an end to their horrific and terrifying persecution and suffering. The Lasiterians had once been as innumerable as the stars in the sky, but now they were a mere handful, numbering in the millions, instead of billions.

"The humans are coming, or more precisely, she is coming," the old and knowledgeable medicine man, Cha'yesi said to Wolachea, appearing as if by magic beside him. The spiritual leader came and stood next to the chief of the people. "I'm sure she is the one talked about in the Dark Guardian Prophecy." Then he quoted its exact words to Wolachea. "'She will be a strange and dark woman who comes from a place very far away. She will be a troubled being who is capable of terrible destruction. If she will but open her heart, she will be guided to her true path through love and compassion. And if her heart is found pure, she will rescue the people and lead them into a new era of peace and prosperity.'"

"I know the words, Master Cha'yesi. I know them well, my friend," Wolachea smiled sadly. "But, dare I hope that I will see them fulfilled in this one they call McKenna McKnight?"

"You have study the humans' varied history, have you not?" When Wolachea nodded, the long, gray-haired man then queried, "And what have you learned about them, my son."

"I feel guilty for stealing the information from their computer files behind their back, but we both know that it was necessary," Wolachea began softly. "I was surprised to find that Earth had experienced a great and terrible war that parallels the ghastly situation our people find themselves in. A race of people calling themselves Germans or Nazis had tried to conquer the globe and exterminate another race of humans called the Jews. Six million of the Jews were brutally and viciously murdered because they were seen as vermin, something nasty that needed to be eradicated; much like how the Vorlorens tend to view us. That is not near the number of our people that have perished, but the Holocaust on Earth is of great significance for us. It seems our suffering is universal, and that the humans should be able to relate to it."

"What else did you learn?" Cha'yesi prompted.

"When I delved further back into Earth's history I found the remarkable events of something their people called 'The American Revolutionary War'," Wolachea spoke more excitedly now. A few young Lasiterian men, no more than sixteen seasons came to listen to the chief and medicine man. They thought they were unseen, but Cha'yesi knew they were there. It was good for them to overhear such discussions; it would help them see how their leaders came to their decisions.

"It was all about how a tiny bunch of colonists had withstood and overcome the much larger and seemingly greater British Empire to win their freedom and independence. Those events seemed comparable to the original start of this civil our people now fight. All the colonists wanted was to have their liberty and live their lives according to the dictates of their own consciences, just as we do. And they won, Cha'yesi; they won! It gives me a larger dose of hope that these humans will be able to understand our plight, and that we may yet survive this horror."

"The humans seemed to have found a way past all their violent and intolerant natures," Cha'yesi commented. "It took another world war and the death of hundreds of millions to finally turn the humans around, but they did turn around. They have accomplished much in the past one hundred years and seem to have a promising future ahead of them. They appear to have faced the darkness within them and have driven it back. But are they evolved or advanced enough to truly help our people; that is the real question."

"Then I'm not wrong to feel a little doubt?" Wolachea asked of his wise companion.

"After so many false hopes, it is understandable to have some lingering doubts, my son. I don't think any of us could survive another one. On the other hand," Cha'yesi said with the quiet power of his station, "if the humans really _are_ the answers to our people's prayers and fasts, then we can't be afraid to grasp the chance when it comes. And we both know it is coming, and coming very soon. You know the Great Spirit watches over each and every one of us, but he is also testing our people, refining them, until we become the precious substance we should have become a long time ago. We are slow learners."

"But we _are_ learning," Wolachea replied with renewed purpose.

It was always good to talk to Cha'yesi. He always looked at things from a broader perspective than most. The young Lasiterian leader turned back to look at his home. The Lasiterians, though they respected the old ways and liked to live simply, were no less intelligent or technologically advanced than their distance brethren.

Wolachea smiled ruefully, and express his thought to the medicine man. "You know I do still consider the Vorlorens our brethren, part of a larger family. There are so many good and deceit among them that I can't hate them as a people. Over the last two hundred years or so, the Vorloren leaders have corrupted them and led them astray, but many see through the lies and have mercy on our people. For that, I thank the Great Spirit daily. It is my fondest wish that one day our two separate groups will be united once again, and we can be whole."

The Lasiterians had built their sanctuary right out of the sheer rock walls all up and down the canyon on this little out of the way continent, on an out of the way planet. From orbit the world seemed desolate and uninhabitable, but that was all tricky and illusion. The Lasiterians cloaked the planet's true life-sustaining nature. They also employed a deflector shield that protected them from detection, as well as from attack. They wore coats of skin from animals and kept to their religious practices, but they were not behind in any of the advanced technology that they could invent and use as their needs arose.

They had set up schools, hospitals, businesses, places of worship, parks and playgrounds, shipping ports, and all the other manner of areas for their society to enjoy. It was all hidden away from prying eyes. Their military had been strong at one time, but the last space battle with the Vorlorens had cost them the bulk of their space fleet. The Lasiterians did little offensive fighting, most of the time they concentrated on just defending themselves. It was the course that the medicine man had revealed that the Great Spirit wanted them to take.

"And you have followed the council of the Great Spirit well, my son. You and the Council have our people fight only to defend themselves, and do not pursue our enemy beyond driving them away," Cha'yesi complimented Wolachea and his leadership. "Lately, it is most of our young men and women that carry out the art of warfare. Many of the older generations have taken the oath that after a certain age they will no longer take up arms against their enemy, even if it means their death. Their faith in the Great Spirit and his admonitions is heartening. The younger generation all seem eager to volunteer to defend their people, their families, their way of life, their freedom, and their right to worship the Great Spirit."

At that moment the group of young men who had been trying to listen in on the conversation without being seen, couldn't help but step forward and weigh in on the medicine man's last sentiment. "We have been taught by our parents what it means to be free, and will die before it is taken from us or our people!" one boy exclaimed.

"We must protect each other, serve one another, and do all we can to preserve our way of life!" another boy piped up.

"It is an honor to look after my brethren and their families. We are all we truly have in life," a third boy spoke up bravely.

This show of love and fearlessness was an inspiring site to see and filled both Wolachea and Cha'yesi with encouragement. "We have faith that our leaders are good men, or we would not have chosen you to be so," the first boy said with conviction. "We know what is in your hearts, for it is what is in our own hearts. We will prevail if it be the Great Spirit's will; if not, we can go to the other side with clean consciences."

Cha'yesi blessed them all with the circular motion of his hands. Wolachea crossed his arms over his chest with his hands in fists and bowed to the extraordinary youth in front of him.

Wolachea had been picked by the voice of the people to be their leader when his father had died. He did not seek the honor, but it was place upon him anyway, so he had accepted it. He had a cabinet of ministers and advisors to help him. A small assembly, also chosen by the voice of the people, helped to create the people's laws and over saw the administration those laws and of their worship. The Lasiterians forced no one to worship the Great Spirit and many among them did not, but all were free to do as they wished. There was no strife among the Lasiterians as a whole. They were united in helping each other and protecting one another. Once in awhile there was contention, but it was usually worked out to the advantage of all involved.

Recently, the people had begun to worry and be unsettled with the heavy damage the Vorlorens were inflicting upon them. Some were clamoring to strike back and aggressively fight, while others wanted to give up and flee to another star system. Right now it was Wolachea and his government's stance to continue as they believed the Great Spirit had instruct them and wait just a little longer for relief to come. He did not want to give up his home. This system was where his ancestors were born, and he would not disrespect them by leaving it for another.

The Vorlorens were the ones that had started the tactic of trying to gain advantages over the Lasiterians by involving other space faring species in their war. The Lasiterians eventually had to attempt to use the tactic as well, just to keep their enemy at bay. Each time the Lasiterians reached out for help, they were either betrayed or the help had been inadequate. The Vorlorens still seemed to come out on top. That was why Wolachea had waited so long to contact the humans.

The Vorlorens had intercepted the human starship almost immediately when it appeared in the system. Wolachea had some of the Vorlorens he knew he could trust observe the humans and see how they reacted to the Vorlorens' overtures. It was clear right from the start that the humans were not fooled by the Vorlorens initial hospitality. They appeared to stall the Vorlorens and did not commit to help them outright. The Lasiterian leader had been shocked to learn of the sleeping human woman and her astonishing abilities. She fit the description of the Dark Guardian almost to a tee, just as Cha'yesi had said. She struggled against the violence inside her and was willing to give her life for one of her own. This was the first time that Wolachea had ever witnessed a species that might be _the_ ones to save his people from utter destruction.

Wolachea did not know what to make of the green ones, the Suliban. He didn't believe that they were very trustworthy and worried they would cause his people more pain and anguish. He now expressed this thought to Cha'yesi, as the young Lasiterian boys headed back to their homes. "It troubles me that the humans would have dealings with the green aliens. They seem questionable."

"They do seem to be rather sneaky," Cha'yesi concurred. "We need to be open-minded with the humans, but not foolish. We will use caution in our dealings with them. I pray they are the ones we have been waiting for."

So did Wolachea, with all his heart. Both men felt the need to meditate and pray for the wisdom and guidance to do what was right for their people. The humans were their last hope and much preparation for their arrival still needed to be completed.

* * *

The mighty Vorloren Space Command fleet soared through space with menacing grace. Archer and Trip were stunned at its magnitude. The fleet had colossal ships that reminded the Captain of the Earth equivalent of aircraft carriers. They housed various numbers of fighter and scout ships. There were shuttles, transports, and cargo ships as well. There were also destroyer and cruiser type ships, along with gigantic battleships and mine sweepers. It was an armada of titanic proportions. It made the Vorlorens a very formable empire, one the Klingons would fear. _Come to think of it_, Archer recalled, _T'Pol had mentioned that they _did_ fear the Vorlorens and avoided the system like the plague. _There was not much the Klingon Empire feared, but they feared the Vorlorens.

It seemed, however, that the plasma or pulse weapons were not as powerful as that of say the _Enterprise_, or the deadly disruptors Klingon battle cruisers or birds of prey used, but through sheer number of ships and the size of their fleet, the Vorlorens were a pretty hefty species to deal with in battle. One or two of their ships wouldn't be much of a threat, but hundreds or thousands of them would be. Their defense technology was the most impressive tool. The shielding and deflectors that they had equipped their ships with could take quite the punishment from photonic torpedoes or various types of disruptor fire without weakening. They could attack more aggressively and not have to pay the consequences in damage to their ships.

The bridge of the fleet's head battle cruiser was magnificent as well. Unlike the cramped space abroad one of the destroyers that Archer had seen when Romdel first replied to _Enterprise's_ hail, this ship's bridge was much roomier. A giant row of windows looked out onto the vastness of the stars beyond the ship. Through it many of the other vessels of the Vorloren fleet could be seen. A large, black, metallic walkway led up from the command deck to pass in front of the massive viewing ports. Tactical stations lined both the right and left side of the bridge. Navigation and communication stations had been placed on either side of the command deck, which was positioned towards the front of the bridge. Centered on the command deck were a series of chairs and stations for command personal to oversee and supervise all the action going on throughout the bridge. The whole design was very imperial and militaristic in nature; black metal seeming to be the favored material. A situation center, similar to the one on _Enterprise_, but much more enormous in size, was located towards the back of the bridge. Doors went off to the right and the left of the situation center, probably to a conference room, and something like a captain's ready room. Vorloren personnel swarmed all over the bridge, going about their various assignments in their black and gray uniforms.

The Vorlorens had decided on a ground assault against the Lasiterians this time around. While it was true that an attacked using their fleet would end the Lasiterians' struggles against them more quickly, Romdel and Hister wanted a more personal approach taken to destroy their enemy. They had calculated that with their new super soldier army they could sweep in swiftly and lay to waste the Lasiterians defenses and be able to make their kills up close. Besides, the protective shielding the Lasiterians employed almost rivaled the Vorlorens' own. Slipping in on the ground underneath the seemingly impenetrable deflector shield appeared to be a more successful strategy. It would be a challenge and a test to the new skills and strength of the super soldier army to fight face to face with their enemy.

Trip had just arrived on the head battle cruiser's bridge after he had been whisked away to a medical freighter for a thorough examination. Romdel and Hister were ecstatic over the commander's new healing ability. They wanted to run all kinds of tests on him and find out how Mac's blood had integrated into his system so successfully and how it was altering his own body chemistry. Trip looked worn out and agitated from being a human pincushion. Archer was worried about him; the Vorlorens hadn't treated Trip too kindly, and the whole experience had left the chief engineer feeling violated and exposed.

The Captain had tried to talk to Mac several times as she came and went to and from the bridge. She had to pass by him each time she walked up to the front of the bridge where Romdel and Hister sat in imposing command chairs up on the command deck from time to time. The transgenic had ignored Archer each time. He and Trip were restrained to the back of the bridge, in shiny, black, metallic seats that seemed to come right out of the bridge wall, with the Vorloren's version of handcuffs or shackles. Trip had curled up in a ball in his seat and was resting fitfully. Romdel had wanted them to view the battle from the bridge and watch the Lasiterians die, and he had also wanted Archer to observe Mac doing the killing. For those reasons, the two humans were allowed on the bridge.

Why was Mac being so cold? Was it to keep in the character of the Chimera, or was she mad at Archer? He couldn't think of anything he had done to upset her. The Captain felt anger radiating off of her. It deeply concerned him because it wasn't the primal rage he had sensed from her before. This was a slow and methodical anger, like the coals of a campfire, hot and red, but under control. He knew from experience that those smoldering coals could turn into a roaring forest fire very quickly. What had happened to her to light the wrath within her? He desperately wanted to talk with her. It was hard for him to watch her stalk back and forth in a Vorloren super soldier uniform. Not that the coarse rubber or leather suit didn't show off Mac's fine form, but the ribs or ridges that ran up and down the entire outfit, gave her a very imperial look that he didn't like. Finally, as she came onto the bridge once again, he reached out and gently snagged her arm as she passed by him.

"Mac, are you okay?" he whispered, knowing that her enhanced hearing would pick up his quiet words. When he touched her, he felt her physically and emotionally relax.

The human super soldier hadn't wanted to acknowledge her lover because she needed to continually feed her anger. Mac knew that even being around Archer would soothe and calm her, and she wished to stay angry. At Jonathan's touch and the sound of his voice, she felt a coolness flow through her. It was like pouring water on the fire in her heart. Her anger lessened, and her more gentle nature increased. Mac wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms, let him comfort her and help her forget her pain, but she couldn't now and wouldn't be able to later. She would miss absorbing his strength of character. He was her anchor in a stormy sea, but that would only last for a short time.

When she didn't answer him, Archer asked again, "What's wrong, Mac?"

"Nothing," she replied brusquely. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," Archer said pressing her, keeping his voice soft. "Something has really upset you. I can feel it." He used his hold on her arm to pull her closer to him.

Mac stared down at him for a moment. Jonathan was forced to remain seated and now Mac towered above him. Well, not really towered, Mac was very petite, but she had the advantage to standing up, while he had to sit in his seat. He watched a myriad of emotions flash across her face. "Jonathan, please, not right now. I have to concentrate on the upcoming battle. I can't let you distract me." Her voice was a whisper as well. "I need to act like the Chimera right now. I have a hard time doing that around you."

"Then tell me what is bothering you and I'll let you get on with your duties," he told her, a little hurt by her curtness. He instantly felt her sorrow at hurting his feelings. Sometimes their emotional empathy was really a good thing. It made her conscious of what reactions her words and demeanor could have on others. "We're at the back of the bridge, away from prying eyes at the moment. I know it's dangerous for you to drop your act, but if you don't deal with how you feel, the consequences of that could be equally dangerous," he tried to prompt her.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she let her hand brush his face. She paused for a moment coming to a hard decision. She didn't want to out and out lie to Jonathan about her conversation with Jack, but she couldn't divulge everything either. "I had a talk with your Future Guy, and I didn't like what he told me." She told him a quick and abbreviated story of what Jack had talked to her about. She left out key points, like her pregnancy, Jack being their descendant, and such. Mac mainly explained Jack's fear of the Vorlorens winning the battle and her dying needlessly. She let Archer know that Jack had wanted her to help the Lasiterians flee and leave the system. She looked around worriedly that Romdel or Hister might be watching. To her relief, they seemed absorbed in other matters at the moment.

"And you feel like your purpose has been taken away from you," Archer guessed.

How did he know her so well? "Yeah, I did," she confessed, looking back at her Jonathan. "I don't know what to do now. Silik is around here somewhere playing the role of Vorloren soldier. He will get you and Trip back to _Enterprise_, and then help me to escape as well, if I decide I am not going to fight."

"Do you think this future being was telling you the truth?" the Captain asked. He understood, to a point, Mac's doubts. Sometimes Future Guy was actually helpful and others times he was only working on his own agenda. Archer didn't trust him and didn't think Mac should. He told her as much.

"But what if he's right?" Mac's emotional pain was almost touchable. "I can't let the Lasiterians be butchered either way. I know all he told me could be more subterfuge and smoke screens, but I can't gamble with other people's lives that way."

"Why is he so concerned about your well-being?" Archer suddenly asked her. It still eluded him why Mac was so important to Future Guy, and it bothered him. "Why does he need you to survive so badly that he doesn't want to risk your life in battle? I don't want anything to happen to you either, but I know better than try and talk you out of helping the Lasiterians. What did he say to you that made you doubt yourself so greatly?"

Mac's emotional agony increased twenty fold, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth. "I'm not sure what his true purposes are, but he knew so much about my future that he started to convince me that fighting the Vorlorens would be a suicide mission for me, and that the Vorlorens would succeed in wiping out the Lasiterians anyway."

Now was neither the time nor place to force her to tell him the whole story, for they had pressed their luck enough as it was with their little conversation. Archer quickly placed his hand on Mac's chest, above her heart and looked up into her eyes. "Listen to your heart," he said simply. "Do what you feel is right. You know deep down what you should do. Trust yourself."

Her Jonathan's touch filled her troubled heart with peace. He knew just how to break through her confusion. He made things so clear. She would miss that too. Again, he made her realize that she was worrying mainly about herself and not others. "What is important is not how the Lasiterians are saved, just that they are. I need to let go of my pride and accept the fact that maybe running away isn't such a bad option. I wanted to be the big, bad hero, when maybe I just need to be a helping hand."

Archer smiled at her. "See that wasn't so tough. You just need to remember to look a little deeper inside yourself, and you'll find your answer."

"No, what I need is you and your influence, love," she smiled back, glancing at his handsome form. Archer was dressed in an all black T-shirt and pants, just like what Trip had on. They both looked rather fetching. "When Silik comes to offer me a way out, I'll take it." She added a condition, however. "As long as the Lasiterians are properly warned and ready to leave, before the Vorlorens can harm them."

"Sounds like a plan," he said and dropped his hand and let go of her. Archer was so relieved that Mac was using logic and reason to do the greater good. He also was ecstatic that the woman he loved wasn't going to get herself killed in battle. "I'd better let you get back to your charade. We don't want Romdel to doubt his control over you."

Mac nodded and whispered, "I love you," and walked away from him.

"I love you too," Archer said to himself and wondered if Mac's special hearing ability had been able to pick the statement up. He continued to feel that something was eating at Mac. Something was still bothering her. She hadn't told him everything, and he was certain she had held back. What had the damn Suliban benefactor said to her that had disturbed her so? He needed to find out. When Silik attempted to "rescue" he and Trip, Archer would get the information out of the Suliban agent, one way or another.

General Torin Hister had silently and unobtrusively watched the exchange between the human captain and the human super soldier. He pretended have his attention on situation reports, but in reality he was sneaking peaks at the back of the bridge. He couldn't hear what the two humans were saying, but the tender way they dealt with each other was the final proof the Vorloren commander needed to see in order to know that the transgenic woman's beast was not in control of her. Somehow, she had beaten his designer drug. He feared something like this would happen. Her resilience was almost expected.

The way she had stalled the strike on the Lasiterians and her interactions with the other humans had given her away, especially the show of self-sacrifice for Archer. She was very good at her deception, having completely snowed Romdel, but Hister's powers of observation were much keener than that of his "half-brother." In his line of work, he had to see what others did not. That was why Hister had developed a backup plan. The genetically engineered human would serve him, even if he risking killing her to make it happen.

"Chimera," he said to her commandingly as she approached him on the command deck, "I need to talk to you for a moment."

Mac, putting on her best Chimera attitude, replied, "What is it now, General? I know what is expected of me. You don't need to go over it again."

Hister smiled meaningfully at her. "I do not doubt your abilities to understand instructions. It's your loyalty that I question. Come," his face and voice were more authoritative, "I want to discuss with you a matter concerning your human companions, but not here. Let's take this into one of the private conference rooms."

Mac raised her eyebrows dubiously at Hister, but followed him as he led her across the bridge and into his chosen meeting room. "My loyalty is to myself, General. You and Romdel should be well aware of this. I am doing what you ask, only because of the prize you've offered," she said as she took in the black metallic, rectangular table and the black metallic chairs surrounding it.

"I'm afraid that will not do," Hister informed her bluntly. The door had closed behind them, cutting them off from being seen by any bridge personnel. "I think you need to be taught how to be obedient." Hister, moving faster than a normal Vorloren was capable of, jabbed something into Mac's neck. She started convulsing instantly. White-hot pain spread through her entire body, as a liquid fire entered her from the device Hister applied at her neck. The sensory overload totally and literally floored Mac. She fell against some of the chairs and onto the floor of the conference room. The Vorloren general had used the pain inducing device Romdel had employed against her once before. Mac couldn't breath, couldn't see, couldn't think, and couldn't fight back as she lay twitching in pain on the gray-carpeted floor.

Hister pulled the device away for a split second as he changed a setting on it, then it was promptly thrust into the skin of her neck once again. Pain shot throughout Mac's body again, but this time, instead of fire, the pain felt like ice flowing into her veins. The coldness penetrated every nerve in her body. It brought with it a thorough and complete paralysis. Mac couldn't move. Every part of her was petrified and held in place. No neurotransmitter could fire, no nerve responded to any commands from her brain. Yet she could feel her body breathe and her heart beat, she could hear everything around her, and she could now see Hister standing over her, but she couldn't move any other part of her body. She couldn't even cry out for help.

TBC

**So let me know what you thought about the Lasiterians. Do they remind anyone of any particular group? And now what's going to happen to Mac? Remember reviews equal encouragement, and I need a lot. :)**


	31. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: This chapter contains a big reveal; one readers have probably been waiting for, I hope. You'll finally find out who the real enemy is; the person who has been trying to change history. And Mac is in big trouble. Will Archer and/or Trip be able to bring her back from the brink? Please don't forget to leave a review. I really do like to have feedback. Thank you to pakled and DinahD who have so faithfully stuck by this story and reviewed regularly. You guys rock the planet!! I'd love to have more reviewers. Please, please leave even a short note. :)**

**Oh, I put in a small ode to "Quantum Leap" in the chapter. See if you can find it. :)**

**Thanks again to LadyRainbow for her beta work. She caught a lot of my silly mistakes and made it so readers don't have to deal with them. LOL!! Enjoy!!**

**Chapter 30**

"That is much better, my dear transgenic," Hister said with much satisfaction. "Now I can talk to you without having to fight your resistance. You will serve _my_ cause and bring about _my_ plans for the future, not your own, not the Suliban's patron, and not even Romdel's. You belong to_ me_. You will do as _I_ want." Mac had known Hister was the much brighter of the duo, but Romdel had always been the aggressive one and Hister had always been in the background. He had never appeared to be an immediate threat, like Romdel had proved himself to be. Mac understood now that had all been part of Hister's strategy. He was the real threat, the mastermind behind all of the Vorlorens' machinations, hidden behind his puppet, Romdel.

Mac wanted to scream, rant, and rave at this lunatic, but she couldn't. She was fully paralyzed. "Allow me to introdu-ss-e mys-ss-elf," Hister began, his voice changing in to a hiss and all Vorloreness about him faded. His true visage was completely alien to behold. He reminded Mac of a giant lizard or some other kind of reptile.

His skin seemed to be covered in dark, forest green scales. His eyes were beady-yellow slits, like a snake's. His nostrils were large on a protruding, snout-like nose. His ears disappeared to be replaced by small holes on the side of the alien's skull. His hands transformed from a five-fingered humanoid hands into three-fingered, viciously clawed ones. He had a thick, long tail as well. A black, forked tongue sped in and out of his mouth. He was well over two meters tall. "I am S-Solin of the Gorn," he announced, and he then cut out the hissing and spoke more as he had as Hister. "I am the leader of another faction in the Temporal Cold War, someone who doesn't believe in holding to the Temporal Accords. I am using the Vorlorens and their war to wipe out the Lasiterians."

Mac was truly horrified by what she saw and by what she heard. This creature personified the word "alien" for her. She needed to understand why Solin wanted to get rid of the Lasiterians.

The Gorn seemed to anticipate her question. "Why, you would ask, if you could? This way none of their descents can influence and help create the Temporal Accords. With no Temporal Accords, my people and I can dominate time travel and control all. We will be the gods we were destined to be."

Mac only understood half of what he was talking about, but something told her it wasn't good. So it was, as Jonathan had feared, another faction from the future, besides Jack and his Suliban, were trying to change the past. Solin wasn't finished yet. "And with the Vorlorens' powerful empire under my control I can destroy Earth's influence in the future and its abominable Federation of Planets before it even gets a chance to exist. Archer's death will be key in that area as well." His lipless mouth smiled sinisterly, showing rows of sharp, gleaming teeth. It reminded Mac of a Velociraptor dinosaur from Earth's ancient past; albeit, a talking dinosaur. "It will bring me much pleasure to use you to assassinate the man you love."

The human super soldier wanted to scream bloody murder. This alien couldn't make her kill Jonathan; he couldn't! She would never, ever do anything to harm her mate, never! This fiend was sick, twisted, and truly evil. Mac had never believed in any devil, but this alien fit the bill pretty well in her panicked mind. "I imagine the backlash from Earth's involvement in the extermination of an entire race of aliens will blast a hole right through any emerging plans to create the abhorrent Federation as well. Without the Temporal Accords and without the Federation, the Gorn can rule the galaxy with nothing to stop us."

Solin grinned wickedly at Mac. He could see the terror in her eyes, and it pleased him to see her this way. "It was _I_ who convinced Romdel to betray the Suliban's sponsor and cause all the trouble that you have experienced first hand. _I_ tempted the Vorloren with greater power and victory over his enemies, pushed him to want more and more. It was _I_ who changed how the events of this time have played out here.

"I was able to surreptitiously and furtively insert myself in the Vorlorens' top chain-of-command. I even arranged the faux pas memories that Romdel has of having a half brother. He didn't really have one, until I created him, and placed false traces of him all throughout Vorloren society," as he said this, he allowed his form to change into that of the Vorloren general once again. His tail disappeared, his skin lost its scales, he gained the transparent look of a Vorloren, and his well-groomed beard and salt and pepper hair reappeared.

"Through Torin Hister I was able to use propaganda and the Vorlorens' own media machine to spread the lies and misgivings about the Lasiterians. It was a great thrill to have this species turn on one another. Exploiting their fears and prejudices was just too much fun. Their war torn masses ate it all up. Their leadership easily fell under my influence and control. The drug I developed for you was not the only one I have in my arsenal," Solin, as Hister, said now on a roll.

The transgenic woman wanted nothing more than to rip this alien's heart out and let him bled to death all over the carpeted floor of the conference room, but she was helpless. She didn't like this feeling. The fear she felt was robbing her of any sound reasoning. This was the second time she had let down her guard, foolishly, and allowed an enemy to ambush her. How could she have let herself, the hunter, be turned into the prey? This bastard was why everything was so screwed up! She had been blaming Jack for all her problems, but he was genuinely trying to fix things. It was this monster that had been responsible, not her progeny.

"I have a new, special chemical creation for you, my dear McKenna; one that will bend you to my will and force you to do only as I say. You will have no free will at all. My exceptional cocktail will compel your darkest nature to drive you. You will want to kill, and kill, and kill, all at my bidding. Your unique healing ability won't be able to overcome the dose I plan on administering to you. I plan on overwhelming your systems utterly and completely. If the chemical compound doesn't kill you; you will be mine. It will only require one dose and the effects will be permanent."

Mac again strained to move, to fight back, but it was all useless. Solin continued with his boasting and bragging. "After you help slaughter the Lasiterians, helping frame Earth for their massacre, you will tear Archer apart. You will turn on your lover. He won't even be recognizable to you. You will see him only as a piece of meat to hunt down and devour." Inside Mac was screaming no, but only her eyes betrayed her sheer terror. This was all a bad dream, a nightmare. She had thought what Jack had told her was hard to deal with; this was much, much worse.

The Gorn, in Vorloren form, produced a large syringe with a puke green-colored liquid inside of it. The syringe was huge; it must have held at least a liter. If Mac could have cried she would have. Solin watched as tears formed unconsciously and slid down the transgenic's face, very aware of the irony, as Mac was not. "If you survive this, you will belong to me," he said with great glee.

Mac thought she was going to have a stroke because she couldn't remember ever being this frightened before. It was because she couldn't remember ever being this helpless. She had always been able to fight her way out of any situation; this time was different. Solin was going to destroy her, and there wasn't one damn thing she could do about it. Also, the fear of losing the tiny life she carried inside her nearly caused her to lose her sanity. The life within her may only have been microscopic cells, but they were still her child; she and Jonathan's creation.

She resolved to say a prayer in her heart. There was nothing else she could do, so she cried out in her mind for help in any form. Mac admitted freely that she needed help. As Solin plunged the giant needle into her neck, she pleaded with absolute and pronounced desperation and sincerity for someone to help her. Then genetically engineered woman felt the serum wash through her bloodstream.

It went slowly and excruciatingly throughout her body, much of it into her brain. Her head felt like it was swelling; ready to split apart at any minute. The pain was unbearable, and yet, she couldn't convulse or scream. Mac's eyes rolled up into her head and blood flowed out her nose. This was much more powerful and totally different from the drug Romdel had dosed her with. The human super soldier wished she were dead. She felt like she was being eaten alive from the inside out. No normal human would survive whatever horrible chemical this was.

When Mac thought she would die, and right before the drug cocktail took her over and unleashed her demon as never before, the transgenic was enveloped in a soft and warm blanket of unconditional love. She swore she heard a voice telling her it would be all right and not to lose hope. The chemical concoction hit her frontal lobe changing her personality, and then Mac was no longer. In her place, a beast that was much meaner, deadlier, and more predatory, arose.

This creature's soul purpose was carnage and destruction. Bloodlust and a thirst for inflicting pain and fear filled its heart. Instead of being wolf-driven like the Chimera had been, this beast grabbed hold of the leopard side of Mac's DNA mixture. It was being created out of darkness, where as the Chimera had been created out of a need for protection and as a way to deal with unwanted emotions. Leopards tended to be loners, where as wolves craved the comfort of the pack. This beast was more than primal, it was demonic and evil. It took its form from the anger, fear, hatred, and murderous tendencies all living things are capable of. It would have no conscience and no mercy.

As the beast was born, it was deluged with a multitude of behavior modifications and conditioning programs, much of it coming straight out of Mac's own memories of her early inauguration at Project Manticore. Beginning at only three years of age, Mac had been trained to be a soldier, first and foremost. The key personnel at Manticore had wanted hardcore training and conditioning for its elite little transgenics. They were daily flooded with subliminal messages, flashed past them at inhuman speeds. Loyalty, honor, obedience, strength, courage, order, duty, respect, reliability, allegiance, fidelity, and other such values were drilled into them to make them the perfect soldier. Solin was using them now to make her his slave.

All of the old images were dredged up from her past experience and new ones fell in along side them. Hister, as a Vorloren and Solin, as the Gorn, continuously invaded her mind. The beast would answer to him and only to him. He was her master; he was her commander. She would do only what he told her to do, and she would defend him to her death. He would be the most important person in her life. The beast was to swear allegiance to only him, and no other; her world would revolve around him. Other images of bloodshed, battle, slaughter, and conflict besieged her mind and senses. The beast could see, smell, taste, touch, and hear all of the violence and gore. So much was poured into this new beast, that it became drunk with bloodlust, wanting more and more of it.

Mac's good Dr. Jekyll ceased to exist, and her evil Mr. Hyde came slamming home. All that was good in Mac slowly decayed and died, and the beast came alive with wild and ferocious abandon. It was like a sickness that rose up and spilled its putrid infection all over Mac's soul. As this reborn creature opened its eyes and beheld the world, its eyes glowed with a green light. Her irises were like that of a large and predatory cat, all emerald green. Her teeth elongated and sharpened with a slight curve to them now. Streaks of white appear throughout her hair. Ivory, razor-sharp claws grew out of her fingernails.

Solin, in his Hister guise, had attached a neuro implant into her right temple. It was seen only as a small, round, silver circle, about the size of a penny, above and just back from her right eyebrow. Through this device, Solin could maintain a solid link to the transgenic woman and continually feed her instructions, images, and mental conditioning. He gazed down at his masterpiece and smiled devilishly. "I think I can release you now," and with that, he deftly applied the pain device to her neck again and reversed her paralysis. "How do you feel, my pet?" he asked, feeling her out.

"Alive, my master," she growled with a deep alto voice. "Truly alive, full of power, thirsting for blood, and ready to do whatever you ask." Mac's new personality carefully picked herself off the ground, and then bowed down on one knee before Solin. She literally hummed with excited energy, awaiting the chance to throw herself into battle and butchery. The look in her feral eyes was almost maniacal.

"Excellent!" Solin was jubilant. "You are more than I hoped for. Let me get a good look at you," he said as his gaze perused her from her head to her feet. He liked what he saw. "What an interesting metamorphosis," he commented happily. The Gorn in disguise gently grabbed her braided hair and set about pulling it loose from is prison. As he loosened it, her hair, dark brown, now mixed with strands of white or blonde, fell in waves down her back. "This is amazing. The chemical was powerful enough to fade the pigment in your hair." The new look suited her. She looked unnatural, almost hauntingly surreal. He couldn't help but run his hands through her hair's glossy, softness.

The beast reacted to his actions as a great cat would. She purred and rubbed her face against his hand. This was her master; such attention was a treat. "I am glad I please you, my lord," her low voice growled again.

He continued to pet his new creation for a few more minutes, enjoying the cold beauty before him. He also gently wiped the blood away from were it had run out her nose. Then he said, "I have a special gift for you. I think you will find it very useful in the upcoming battle." He walked over to the far end of the conference table. Hidden in one of the chairs that were pushed under the table, the temporal agent withdrew a long and flat box. He offered it to the transgenic.

The beast jumped up from her kneeling position and took it from him eagerly. It didn't take her long to open it. Inside she found two perfectly crafted, metal sais. Each sai had a long center blade with two shorter symmetrical blades coming out to the left and right of the center one. The two shorter blades were called tsuba. The configuration of the blades almost resembled a trident, except for the fact that the center prong was not flat or round in shape, but its thin diameter was octagonal and much longer than the other two blades.

The handle on each weapon was wrapped in fine, black leather and weighted just right for the transgenic's hands; the grips grooved just for her. Whatever metal they were made out of appeared well-sharpened, as if they would cut through anything. Symbols, she didn't recognize, were etched along each of the blades. She backed up a bit and tried them out, the silver gleam flashing through the air. She expertly twirled them and slashed back and forth with them, placing her hands in different offensive and defensive grips. She noticed that the very end of the handles had a knuckle. These were used mainly for non-lethal fighting moves, but they would not see much use.

"These are exquisite," she said excitedly. "The craftsmanship is exceedingly fine. I thank you, my lord."

"I am glad you approve," Solin told her with relish. "They are the just the thing to spill Lasiterian and human blood with. A pulse or phase weapon is too impersonal and not very challenging. The Gorn love a good fight, especially hand-to-hand with a good, solid blade in your hand. This way you can feel the metal cut into the flesh," he said, trying to gage her reaction.

The beast didn't disappoint him. "Oh yes, and watch the life drain slowly out of your victim," she growled merrily.

Solin considered her a moment. "You need a new name," he finally stated. "What one would you like? I don't think Chimera fits you anymore. You are much different from her."

The human weapon grew thoughtful as she searched her memories for something appropriate, something that fit her transformation. "Call me…Nemesis," the beast that had been Mac replied after much deliberation. "She is from an old legend I learned of once. She was the assassin of the gods. She dealt out their punishments for them. She was a goddess of vengeance, at least in the darker versions of her myth. I am to be your assassin, your punisher, and your vengeance. It is my true purpose. Yes, I think Nemesis will do nicely," she finished saying with a sly smile.

Hister thoroughly agreed with her. "I like how you think, my pet," he said approvingly. "Now we should introduce you to those I command and put you to the test."

Nemesis almost jumped with excitement. She was more than ready to prove her extraordinary skills in front of her master. She couldn't wait to kill something. "As you wish," she replied and slipped her new gifts down into the tops of her boots. She strode over to the door and opened it for her master. She then stepped back to allow him to walk through it onto the bridge first. He was her commander; his position alone demanded her respect, and everyone else's.

Solin, as Hister, almost pranced out onto the bridge, so pleased he was with himself. All his meticulous planning and his long held tenacity was finally paying off the way he wanted it to. Soon the Lasiterians and all of their influence would be history, thanks to a genetically engineered human from Earth's past. The Gorn couldn't wait to show off his new toy. He especially anticipated the human captain's reaction to the transgenic's new personality. He, like Romdel, had a sadistic streak in him. Bringing out the evil in a human was not as difficult as he had thought. Not as easy as it was with Klingons or Andorians, but it was now possible with humans.

As the fake Vorloren general entered the battle cruiser's bridge, he became aware of two things; all the Vorlorens' shock at the sight of Nemesis, and a commotion over where the humans had been shackled. Solin made his way over to the back of the bridge, confident the transgenic would follow him wherever he went, and he wasn't disappointed. Something was wrong with Archer. The blonde human was trying to stir the unconscious form of his captain; this was curious.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Solin, as Hister, demanded of the soldiers milling around, some of them attempting to assist the human, Tucker, in helping Archer.

Trip whipped around at the sound of the General's voice. "He needs a doctor. He had a severe grand mall seizure and collapsed. Somethin's really wrong."

This was, indeed, extremely curious. It seemed as though the transgenic's transformation was affecting Archer. They were linked in a most fascinating way. Romdel had been correct in his assessment. Bringing forth the monster from deep inside of Mac had nearly killed the human captain it appeared. It was almost a pity it hadn't, but then Solin wouldn't get the satisfaction of watching his new creation rip him apart.

"Get Dr. Goerner up here right away," Solin ordered one of his soldiers. "When did this happen?" he demanded of Trip.

"Just a moment or so ago. He was fine one minute actin' normal and the next minute he was convulsin' wildly. I have no idea what's wron---," Trip stopped his speech abruptly as his gaze took in the woman who had been Mac. He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't seeing things. The chief engineer tried to stand, but the handcuffs only let him get part of the way up. His feet didn't want to support him anyway, so he fell down on the ground beside the prone form of Archer.

Trip tried to form words, but couldn't, he was too stunned. He couldn't comprehend the change in Mac's appearance and demeanor. "What in the hell did you do her?!" he finally shouted after many attempts, full of passionate rage. His eyes were dilated slightly. It seemed Archer wasn't the only one that was reacting to the transgenic's new personality. Tucker had nearly half his blood supply given to him by the human super soldier; part of her was now a part of him. Romdel had been right again. At least the Vorloren director had noticed some of the things going on around him. Solin was thoroughly enjoying himself; humans were such a sport.

"I thought I would improve your super soldier and make her a more efficient killer," Solin told Trip outright. "The previous drug was not working to my liking, so I designed a new one. This time not even you can interfere with its effects," Solin smiled maliciously at him.

Trip regained his footing and tried, fruitlessly, to get at who he thought was Hister. "You evil bastard!" he exclaimed. His restraints held him far away from Hister and many of the Vorloren soldiers moved to block him. Mac seemed to take a defensive stance at his actions as well. Trip looked at the genetically engineered woman pleading with her. "Mac, you can't let them do this to you! You have to fight it!"

Nemesis looked at the animal in front of her. She didn't like the way he moved towards her master, but something in his deep blue eyes seemed to call out to her, and she had no idea why; he was prey. She hadn't been ordered to attack this one, but she understood the he was prey, someone to hunt. The strange creature had addressed her as Mac; that was not who she was, but why did it feel so familiar to her? She caught his scent; it smelled of rain and bayou. That, too, seemed like something she should know, but it was beyond her grasp to understand why. She felt drawn to him, but knew that she shouldn't be, her master had clearly taught her that animals like him were dangerous and needed to be hunted and killed.

"Mac, please!" Trip cried out again. "It's Trip. You have to remember who you are!"

"I am my master's creation," she answered his pleas at last. "Nothing more, nothing less. I will do as he commands." Trip recoiled at the growl in her voice. It frightened him, as did the crazed look in her now cat green eyes. Hister really must have brainwashed her. He now noticed for the first time, the small, silver disk embedded in her right temple; it must be the cybernetic neuro implant Mac had told him about.

Nemesis smelled his fear, and it sent a warm flush throughout her body. She drank it in; it was like candy to her. She slowly circled him, moving a little closer with each step. Trip tried to back away from her, but his handcuffs wouldn't allow him to move too far.

"Mac, sweetheart, please!" he pleaded again.

The more Nemesis smelled him and the more she looked into his eyes, the more she felt drawn to him, but not for food or blood. It was another instinct all together, but she couldn't place it. The human weapon backed Trip into his seat and leaned into him, placing her hands and arms on either side of his head, trapping him. Solin watched amused, as she sniffed him and licked his cheek. He liked to watch her play with her prey.

The commander's heart was beating like a scared rabbit's in his chest. He grimaced as she ran her tongue along his cheek. He thought she was tasting him as something for food. Mac wasn't Mac at all. He didn't think she was the Chimera either; this demon in front of him was something totally different; it was darkness personified.

"Who are you?" he gulped out.

"Nemesis," she whispered in his ear. "Assassin for the gods." She pulled back to look at him again. She observed him closely and critically. He wasn't an unpleasant creature to look upon. When her eyes meet his again, another familiar tug pulled through her. "Who are you? Do I know you? Should I know you?" she asked in her harsh and deep voice.

Trip, trying not to let his fear overcome him, answered her shakily. "Its Trip, Nemesis," he said her new name uncertainly. "You do know me, and I know you very well. You save my li--," his remarks were cut short.

"Nemesis, stop playing with that human," Solin commanded. "I will let you hunt him later. Now come to me."

Trip watched in horror as she ran her teeth along his neck, and then swiftly pulled away from him and went to who he thought was Hister's side. Solin was not about to let that stupid human make any connection to his new pet. He had programmed her to kill Archer as soon as he gave the command. Now it seemed that he would have to do the same with Tucker too. His monster still seemed to have a bond with the chief engineer.

As the transgenic returned to her master's side she got a good look at Archer lying helpless on the floor. Her first reaction was to pounce on him and rip his throat out. That animal was her master's worst enemy, and he must be eliminated, torn apart, but not until he gave her the order; only then could she kill the human. Her mouth watered in anticipation of the kill. She would enjoy slaughtering her master's enemy, when the time came. The human moaned and stirred. Suddenly, the human super soldier experienced a vivid and intense sensory memory of herself and the creature on the ground.

It was arousing, but tender, full of feelings she couldn't define. They were very intimate, but it was not just instinct that drove them. There were deeper and more complex emotions in play. The transgenic did not understand them, but they felt so good and so right. How could any being that made her feel like this be her master's enemy, and therefore her enemy? Why was she remembering this? Had it really happened? Why would she mate with her master's enemy? A snarl of pleasure issued from her fanged mouth, as her mind and body experienced her and Archer's moments of passion. She almost lost her balance.

Solin, deeply disturbed by her display, reached out to her and steadied her. "Are you all right, my pet?" he crooned to her.

The genetically engineered woman instantly snapped out of the sensory memories, and the fierce predator returned. She shook off the feelings and was her master's servant once again. "I am fine, my lord. I apologize for losing my focus. It will not happen again."

The Gorn in disguise looked at her warily. "It had better not," he commanded, full of authority. "I will not tolerate any mistakes from you."

A brief flash of shame struck the new beast. She did not want her master angry with her. To have him displeased in any way was the worst thing that could happen. "I understand, Master," she told him as she bowed her head in contrition.

Archer stirred again, interrupting whatever the evil alien was going to say next. His arms were at an odd angle above his head because of his restraints and the position of his body on the floor. The Captain blinked his eyelids rapidly at first, and then more slowly. Trip, having gathered his wits, was at his side, as much as the cursed shackles would allow him to be. "Jon," he said to his friend, trying to get him to come to, "Jon, are you okay?" The commander tried to check Archer's pulse and breathing. Both were rapid.

Black eyes, with only a ring of their original hazel-green, finally, fully opened. Archer's eyes worried Trip; something was definitely wrong with the Captain. How far gone was he? Trip remembered Archer saying something about having to be sedated a lot by Phlox last time Mac reverted to a more primal being. He looked at Trip, and to the commander's delighted surprise, recognized him. Archer wasn't totally gone, at least not yet. "Trip?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, sir. It's me," Trip quickly replied.

"What happened? Why do I feel like I've been in a Klingon targ pit?" Archer managed to say as he tried to sit up. That was a mistake. Blinding pain stabbed through his skull straight into his brain. He grasped and fell back to the floor. Sweat had broken out all over his body. He felt way too warm.

"Easy, Jon, easy," Trip told his friend. "It might be better for you to stay down, until Dr. Goerner gets here." The commander purposely moved to block Archer's line of sight of Mac; no, she was Nemesis now. Trip didn't think the Captain would take it very well. Archer was at least in his right mind right now, despite the physical change of his eyes, and the chief engineer wanted to keep his friend that way. Seeing what had happened to the transgenic woman might not be the best idea at the moment. It might push him over the proverbial edge.

The Captain drew a shaky breath as the pain let up and gradually subsided. Dr. Goerner finally graced them with his presence; a short Vorloren with a long, pointed nose, very transparent skin, and a dramatically receding hairline that left the rest of his hair gray. "General Hister," he said, surprised to see the high official involved with the humans. "I didn't realize it was you that was calling for me, sir," he said awkwardly. It was obvious the doctor would have made more of an effort to get to the bridge if he had known it was Hister that had needed him.

"You're getting sloppy, Doctor," Solin, still playing Hister, criticized. "Next time you take your time, I may take away your license, or perhaps your life." The threat hung in the air.

"Of course, General," Dr. Goerner said and swallowed nervously. "The private said that one of the humans had a seizure and collapsed?" He now tried to get down to business and became more professional.

Archer looked at Trip surprised. No wonder he felt so crappy. "I did?"

"You did," Trip answered the question.

"Why?" the Captain asked next.

Goerner squatted down beside Archer and ran a Vorloren version of a portable medical scanner over him. "I will find out shortly," the doctor commented, at least he hoped he would.

"What is going on, Torin?" came Romdel's baritone voice as he walked onto the bridge. He caught one look at the human super soldier and his mouth dropped open. "What have you done to her?" His tone was not accusatory, but more in awe of what he saw. Last time he beheld the human super soldier, she hadn't looked so ethereal.

Solin sneered at the director. "What you failed to do. The resilient creature overcame the first drug, but you missed all the signs. She played you for a fool, little brother, faking that she was on the drug. You are fortunate that I am not so easily taken in, that I caught the signs and came up with a way to reform her once again. You let her feminine wiles blind you."

"Are you telling me that you developed another drug without my knowledge?" Romdel seemed rather angry now. "She seemed perfectly under control to me. You had no right to undermine me."

"Sure she did. Is that the reason you allowed her to give you those lovely wounds on your face? I am trying to help you, you stupid dolt," Solin fired back. "If I hadn't interfered she would have found a way to help the other humans escape and turn our super soldier army against us. Now she obeys without question, and the real killer inside her is ready to do as I say."

Archer's head had been going back and forward between the two Vorloren leaders listening intently to what they had been saying. Not even the hammering pain in his head could pull his attention away. He realized they were talking about Mac. Hister had done something to her. Where was she? It took him a minute to put it together that Trip was purposely staying in his line of sight, not letting him see beyond where the commander himself was. Even though it caused waves of nausea to roll through him, the Captain scooted around Trip and beheld Mac. Oh boy!

The savage in him instantly responded, all weakness or illness gone. The tightly controlled homicidal nature coming off her was very palpable to Archer's own primal side. Instead of knocking him unconscious for days, like before, whatever had been done to Mac this time was fully stimulating him. Her beauty was still captivating and made him hunger for her. Through his psychic-emotional bond with the transgenic, the Captain felt all of what she felt. The new beast was aching to slaughter something, but a force all its own held her back, dammed up the instinct until the right command was given. Archer's own primitive self became very cold and calculating, yet ready for action at any moment. When the circumstances were right, he too would lose control. This realization terrified Archer's rational side.

"His prefrontal cortex is extremely over stimulated," Dr. Goerner's voice broke into the Captain's introspection. "And there is unusual activity in what I believe humans refer to as the 'primitive' or 'reptilian' part of his brain."

That caught Solin's attention and stopped his argument with Romdel. "What?" he demanded forcefully.

Dr. Goerner swallowed uneasily again, not liking the intense scrutiny he was receiving. He was not an expert in human physiology, after all. "The amygdala region, located in his medial temporal lobes, including his hypothalamus and other parts of his limbic system are also extremely overactive. He is, in a sense, reverting to a very primal part of human instinct. In other words, he is becoming like the human super soldier, driven by primitive needs and emotions; anger, aggression, hunger, and so on."

"I see," said Solin thoughtfully, "So when I administered the new drug to her and brought forth her darkest instincts and desires, Archer experienced some of that effect as well."

"I would say that is a definite possibility, General," Dr. Goerner replied, finishing his scans.

The Captain's rage and fury started to boil within him. Hister had done something to Mac _again_ to make her into a killer. He would not let that stand. His mate would not be used this way. He lost his control. Without any warning and with unnatural strength, thanks to a surge of adrenalin and burning anger, Archer launched himself upward onto his feet and snapped the shackles free of their restraint. "You're a dead man, General!" he snarled and threw himself at the fake Vorloren.

Nemesis had another idea in mind. Sensing instantly that her master was in danger, she blocked Archer's attack with her body. Archer's momentum was enough to send them both crashing to the ground. The Captain landed on top of the transgenic, but she kicked him off with a hard front ball kick. The power behind her kick sent him flying across the bridge into a crowd of Vorloren soldiers. He hit them like a bowling ball, knocking several of them down as he smashed into them.

This did not slow Archer down one bit. He rose to his feet and rushed at whom he thought was Hister again. All his energy and focus was directed into killing the alien. The human super soldier barred his way a second time. She struck him with the back of her fist and forearm, snapping them up at a right angle. The Captain hurled backwards again, his nose bleeding. Still, he didn't seem to notice.

He got up and charged at Hister for a third time. Nemesis, through playing with the dangerous animal brought out her sais. She wanted to kill him, her blood burned to do it, but Solin had not given the order yet. As Archer came running at her, she sliced through the air, once in a left circular motion and once with a right circular motion. Each slash connected with the skin and tissue of Archer's body. An x-shape appeared across the front of his chest, from shoulder to shoulder. Rich, red blood flowed freely, as the blades cut not only through his shirt, but his skin and muscle.

The Captain staggered and finally fell back to the ground, his knees buckling as the pain of the cuts hit him. Nemesis hadn't mortally wounded him, she had yet to be given the order, but she had given him one hell of a bleeding wound. Archer then tried to rise to his feet for a fourth time. Vorloren soldiers were now attempting to surround him. He only made it to his knees. Blood oozed down his broad chest, but it heaved with every breath he took. Nemesis could barely contain herself. The sight and scent of blood was whetting her appetite for the kill.

"I would suggest you stay put, Captain," Solin told him condescendingly. "One word from me and your precious transgenic will tear you apart, which she seems very eager to do."

Those words broke Archer free the feral instinct that had seized him. Hister had programmed Mac to kill _him_? The bleeding slashes on his chest were a testimony to the fact that she wouldn't hesitate to harm him, but would she really murder him? The Captain looked into Mac's eyes, but Mac was genuinely not home. The evil he saw in her eyes seemed to go down into her soul. Whatever Hister had done to her, his Mac was gone, and the monster that met his gaze was one of pure malevolence. She would show him no mercy.

Archer's deep despair took the rest of the fight out of him. He laid down and passed out, his body pushed to its limit. Trip was frozen where he sat on the floor. The commander didn't know what to do. Archer's attack and ferocity had thrown him for a loop, as had the ease with which the genetically engineered woman had deflected all of his assaults. She had actually spilled the Captain's blood. Trip knew how much Mac had sincerely cared for his captain, but it appeared that Hister had destroyed that part of her too. This was not good, no, not good at all.

Trip could feel his own primal drives and instincts wanting to kick in, but he repressed them the best he knew how because they would only get him killed. T'Pol had taught him a few Vulcan calming techniques that helped, but it was all he could do to stop himself from going after the Vorloren general as Archer had. Finally, he broke the silence that had settled across the bridge by addressing Hister and Romdel

"Are you gonna help him, or let him bleed to death?" he demanded.

Hister appeared unconcerned, as if he would let the Captain bleed to death on the bridge floor. It was Romdel who ordered the doctor and some of the soldiers to get him to their medical bay. He wanted Archer to die too, but not yet, the human hadn't suffered enough. Besides, Hister had some explaining to do first.

"You may want to make sure he stays restrained," Hister commented, as the soldiers picked up Archer's unconscious form and removed it from the bridge. "He is obviously very dangerous."

"Thanks to you, you sonvabitch!" Trip couldn't stop the statement from coming out of his mouth. "You won't get away with this. Mac's stronger than you could ever imagine. She beat your wonder drug once, she'll do it again."

Solin, as Hister, turned to the chief engineer and almost laughed in his face. "You are terribly mistaken, my dear boy. The woman you knew is dead, as if she never existed. Nemesis is my creation, and she does only what I tell her to do. She will never do anything against my wishes. She can't overcome what she really is, a monstrous killer."

Nemesis watched Trip with great curiosity. How could he talk to her master so disrespectfully? She circled him again, like a great cat stalking its prey. Part of her wanted permission to take him down, but another part of her felt comforted by his presence. That fact was in direct contraction to what Solin had programmed into her about humans, well humans inferior to her. She shouldn't find Trip comforting, but she did. There was something about him that she liked too and what he said as well. Solin's influence was paramount in Nemesis's mind, but some smaller, almost overlooked influence whispered to her to remain close to Trip. They shared a connection, somehow. What kind and why, Nemesis didn't know, nor did she care, but it was there nonetheless. This supposedly dangerous human meant something to her and part of her didn't what to let go of him. She felt Solin trying to add additional programming through the neuro implant he shared with her. He wanted her to destroy Tucker. Nemesis was compelled to obey, but something deep inside her resisted this new programming attempt, although not consciously.

"Good always triumphs over evil," Trip retorted. "It always has and always will, you'll see. It's a universal law." The commander glanced at the sulking Nemesis and shivered. He thought she was just waiting to tear into him and bleed him dry. He desperately wished for his words to be true. They sounded confident, but in his core, he wasn't so sure. He wanted his friend back, the woman who had risked her life to save his. That was a soul worth fighting for, and Trip would be damned if he would give up on her now.

"Commander Tucker, humans are so naïve," Solin said and tsked, tsked him. "Only the powerful win in the end, and in this case I'm the one who has all the power." He turned to a Vorloren soldier and said, "Take Commander Tucker to the brig. I don't want any attempts at interference from him." The soldier went to comply with his order.

"Master," Nemesis spoke up, as she cleaned her blades of Archer's blood and stuck the sais down in her boots again.

"Yes, my pet," he responded to her happily. She had really outdone herself with her earlier actions. She had proven her loyalty. She would kill her former lover when the Gorn called for it.

"May I ask, one, small favor?" she asked with humility.

Solin smiled warmly at his creature. "Of course, my dear, what do you desire?" She had earned a tiny grace.

Nemesis made sure she phrased her request correctly. She didn't want her master to be angry or doubt her allegiance in anyway, but she needed this Tucker nearby. She felt it was extremely important. She didn't understand why, but it was a need she couldn't ignore. "I would like Commander Tucker," she pointed to him with a sharp, ivory claw as she said his name, "to personally watch the destruction of your enemies out on the battlefield. The pain and torment it will cause him will be like drinking a fine wine. It will fill me with great satisfaction to witness his suffering as he observes my handy work before I kill him." For the darkest part of her this was all true, but for another part of her it was the only thing she could say to successfully convince the Gorn to give her what she wanted. It would make him think the new programming had taken.

At first Solin thought he would be angry with the transgenic woman. Her request to let Tucker be with her seemed to go against his programming of her, but then when he heard the reasoning behind it, and then the ending of it with her wanting to kill the human, he was pleased with her idea. "I like your train of thought, my dear. It is truly diabolical. I shall grant your request," he paused a moment, "with one condition. You will not speak to or engage in any conversation with Commander Tucker. He is our enemy and will try and turn you against me. He is devious and a liar. You know how important you are to me, but I will not allow you to dishonor me in any way." He was confident in her compulsion to obey him in this matter.

A strange relief came over Nemesis as Solin granted her request. She would do as he commanded, for she wouldn't dare dishonor her master. He was everything to her, but in some bizarre way so was Tucker. "Thank you, my lord. I will do as you command."

Trip backed up as Nemesis neared him once again. She was going to torment him, and then kill him. His heart hurt, not from the fear of his fate, but from seeing Mac in the state she was in. This wasn't who she was. Hister had somehow twisted everything up for her and damaged her better nature. This was not happening. The chief engineer didn't want to accept this state of affairs.

"Just kill me now why don'tcha? Or send me to the brig? But don't make me witness the slaughter that's comin'. I can't watch her murder innocent men, women, and children," Trip said sadly, hoping his words would sway the general to let him stay around the transgenic through reverse psychology. He needed to turn this around, but how could he turn it around? There had to be a way. He just needed more time to figure it out.

"Oh, you will die, Mr. Tucker, you will die, but you will endure much torture and abuse first," Solin informed him chipperly. "It is too delightful a prospect, to have the woman who saved your life, now take it painfully away from you." It was a prideful gloat that wasn't without cost.

Nemesis stared at Trip. She had saved his life? When? How? Why would she risk her own life for that of a creature that was her prey, her inferior? Suddenly, she was confused, allowing for another sensory image to overtake her. She found herself watching the blonde human die, bleeding to death from multiple wounds, the worst in his gut. Nothing could be done; he was past the point of saving by conventional means. Then she felt and saw the whole experience of she, herself, stepping forward and offering her life for his, her blood to save and heal him.

Everything was so vivid, the colors, the sights, the sounds, the smells, and especially the emotions. Nemesis literally relived the entire event in a single moment, feeling everything she had as Mac during the time it happened. The indescribable joy she had felt offering to save the human's life washed over and through her blackened soul, loosing some the darkness gripping it. The human super soldier showed no outward sign of having the sensory memory, she knew better than to let her master see any sign of weakness in her, but it left its mark. It unsettled her to her core and doubt began to bloom within her.

She knew that she had truly done this thing, Solin had said so himself, so why did she want to destroy the human now? If this memory was real and genuine, then what about the ones she had experienced about Archer, her master's sworn enemy? Where they real as well? If they were, why was she now determined to slay him when her master commanded it? Why did she long to demolish him, when she had cared enough about him to mate with him and enjoy his company? It didn't make any sense. It was paradox even her enhanced intelligence couldn't get its head around.

Trip was the only one who noticed the slight change in the being called Nemesis, as all these troubling thoughts passed through her mind. It was so subtle, but he saw it in her eyes as she stared at him. They softened ever so slightly as she remembered saving his life. She remembered something outside of Hister's horrible mind control. It wasn't much, nothing seemed different about her, but Trip gained a tiny seed of hope. Mac was still in their somewhere. He just had to find a way to reach her.

Romdel had started in on Hister again, and both aliens missed the brief moment the two humans had shared. And to think, Hister had unwittingly and unconsciously just sabotaged his own grand designs. Pride cometh before the fall.

"My lords, we have reached the coordinates of the Lasiterians stronghold, but --," a navigator started to announced.

"But what?" Romdel demanded impatiently.

"Sir, this can't be right," the navigator told him totally confused at the readings in front of him. "This planet is unable to support life of any kind. It is too volatile a place."

Solin, still playing Hister, cleared up the Vorloren navigator's confusion. "And that is just what our cunning Lasiterians enemies what us to think."

TBC

**So what do you guys think about what's happening? Was any of this surprising or was it predictable? Is it any good or no? Please let me know what you think. Thanks. And Happy New Year to everybody!!!**


	32. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: In this chapter I alluded to some real life, historical events. See if you can pick up on them. I'm a big history buff so of course that will find itself into my writing. Thanks so much to LadyRainbow who kept pushing me to make the Lasiterian scene better and better; make them more real as a people. Her advice and suggestions were just what I needed. Also, I couldn't help but use one of my favorite hymns in this chapter. This chapter sets up all the action to come. There are about nine more chapters left to post, and then my monster story will end.**

**Enjoy!!!!**

**Chapter 31**

Ensign Sato found the Lasiterians to be a very noble and gallant people in the short time she'd known them. Wolachea, their elected leader, had given them a short tour and shown her and her crewmates a layout of the village and city his people had carved out of the canyon and the area surrounding it. Hoshi was captivated by the simple way they lived their lives, yet they had a deep knowledge of things and use of very advanced and sophisticated technologies. They dressed in beautiful animal skins and hides, of all colors. Wolachea wore an unadorned dark tan tunic with matching pants and boots. To Hoshi, it looked like leather, but it was from no animal she had ever seen before.

Wolachea and the humans from _Enterprise _then seated themselves in the small and homey Lasiterian council chambers inside of the Lasiterians' leadership building. The simple brown chairs with soft, fluffy tan cushions were low to the ground and arranged in a circle to allow everyone an equal standing in the discussion. Beautifully and artfully woven rugs covered the plain, dark, hardwood floor, adding a personal touch to the room. A large circular window allowed the group to still realize it was dark outside, despite the bright lamps and overhead lights inside the meeting room. Several tan, brown, and beige fat candles were placed in the middle of the seating circle on a short oval table. They wafted the soothing scent of sage throughout the room.

Wolachea sat and explained the Lasiterians' view of their civil war to Hoshi, Malcolm, and Travisand he did not place the blame totally on the Vorlorens. "At first the Vorlorens didn't mind us practicing our religion, as long as we kept to ourselves and didn't force it on them. My ancestors readily agreed to this and much time passed in peace. But as with anything that brings you happiness, you want to share it with others around you. Many of my people just opened their mouths and told friends and neighbors about the Great Spirit and his wisdom. Many of those who listened were converted and joined with us in our worship. We prospered and multiplied." Hoshi loved to listen to Wolachea's voice; it came across as very cultured, a lot like Malcolm's British accent.

The Grand Chief paused for a moment to offer his guests some refreshment; mint tea and soft and warm cookies. Before any of the food was taken, however, Wolachea bowed his head, folded his arms, and blessed it, thanking the Great Spirit for its sweetness and nourishment. Hoshi, Malcolm, and Travis followed suit as some of the other Lasiterians in the room copied the ritual of their leader.

After it was served, Wolachea continued with his tale. "This made many in the Vorloren government nervous. My people were not forcing anyone to worship as we did. They believed that a person must worship according to the dictates of their own conscience, but some in the Vorloren government saw us as radicals trying to take over the government and corrupt the whole of society. They feared what they didn't understand. They didn't want us to get too powerful or influential, so they offered my ancestors a chance to colonize the outer planets of the system."

Malcolm guessed where the story was going. "The Vorloren government thought that would get your people out of their hair, while still allowing you to have your religion."

"Exactly, Lieutenant Reed," Wolachea smiled cordially at the tactical officer and a faint grayness was added to the cream of Wolachea's face; his people's version of a blush or warming of the cheeks. "However, things started to sour as time went on. We again prospered and became wealthy and gained some political influence with that wealth. Again, many Vorlorens felt threatened by this. Slowly and subtly at first, the Vorlorens started taking away certain rights and imposed unfair laws on my people. Eventually, they got to the point where Lasiterians couldn't hold certain jobs or positions in Vorloren society, they froze our assets, and they started to take away some of our possessions, as taxes. Some in the Vorloren government even demanded that Vorlorens boycott any items or services provided by a Lasiterian.

"Then came the heavy-handed blow. They didn't want us meeting together. They passed laws forbidding us to practice our religion in any form, to do so was to be a traitor, and was punishable by death. They also demanded that my people deny that the Great Spirit even existed. Thus, started my people's rebellion and move for independence," Wolachea went on. "I must say and admit freely that not all of my people were well-behaved when the war picked up speed and momentum. My people were not guiltless of perpetrating many gruesome acts and making some serious mistakes. They caused the Vorlorens a lot of grief and killed many innocent Vorloren civilians. All our actions were not wise."

Travis jumped in with a thought. "It seems our peoples have a lot in common. We humans have done some pretty stupid things throughout our existence too. We almost completely destroyed ourselves because of our fears, prejudices, and greed. Luckily, we learned our lesson and were able to change our ways. From what I've been studying of Earth's history, it wasn't easy, and it took a long time. The price we paid was a big one, but well worth it in the end."

Wolachea's kind, dark brown eyes appraised Mayweather approvingly. Unlike the Vorlorens, the not all of Lasiterians' irises were white, but some were colored in ways very similar to humans and other such species. Travis had described how he had been the one to finally find a way to decode the Lasiterians' message and how he had come up with the idea from studying history. That it was, in fact, the Navajo code talkers during World War II that had given him the idea on how to understand the Lasiterians' code. Wolachea had been both impressed and pleased; the humans were proving to be much more resourceful than he had first thought. He liked that they had truly learned from their history. They had faced the demons of their past, unlike the Vulcans who only suppressed theirs, or the Klingons who denied they had any to overcome at all.

"My people have been slow to learn the lessons of history and follow the teachings of the Great Spirit, and now we are paying the price, as Ensign Mayweather so aptly put it," Wolachea said with a heavy sigh. "We have changed our ways, but I fear it may be too late."

Hoshi wouldn't let that statement stand. "What is important is that you _have_ changed, that you don't want to kill your brethren any more. I can't believe that you will only defend yourselves and not take the fight to them. It is a magnanimous and rare approach to war. I don't know what you did in the past, how bad it got, but no one deserves what atrocities have been heaped upon your people, or to suffer the ghastly way they have, not even your enemy does for all they have done."

"You are much more forgiving and merciful than most people, Hoshi Sato," Wolachea told her softly. "All we really want is just to have right to practice what we believe without any interference, and we just want to live our lives in peace with our Vorloren brethren."

A slight racket broke the seriousness of the meeting for a moment. Two, dark haired, Lasiterian children came running through the council chambers. They were in a heated argument. _They must be siblings, _Hoshi thought with a small smile. "I told you there were aliens in here," a young Lasiterian girl barked at the older Lasiterian boy. "I don't lie. You know how the Great Spirit frowns upon that, Nacien."

"I never said you lied, Arela," the boy sniped back. "I just said you tend to exaggerate the truth."

Wolachea quietly stood. At first Hoshi thought he was going to scold and discipline the two kids, but he was very gentle in how he reproved them. "All you had to do was ask to come in and see for yourselves. There is no need to be angry with one another about it. You know anyone is welcome, if they show the proper respect. Come and meet our guests."

The children were humbly embarrassed, but delighted that their chief would let them meet the strange new alien visitors to their world. Hoshi thought the little girl was stunning with her dark curly hair and bright blue eyes. She looked about eight years old. The little girl quickly changed her tone, apologized to her brother, and to those in the council chamber for so rudely interrupting. The boy thanked Hoshi and her companions for being there, and he too apologized for the interruption and for doubting his little sister. Wolachea winked at them as they left, knowing they would not be so thoughtless again.

Malcolm started the discussion back up right where they had left off. Hoshi could tell he had been carefully observing the children and had come to some kind of conclusion. "I think a majority of the Vorlorens want to live in peace too. As we have been dealing with their government, we can see that it's very corrupt. Director Romdel and General Hister seem to be hell bent on wiping your people out. We think they are controlling the High Monarch and are keeping the war going to fulfill their own agenda."

This was apparently news to Wolachea, as his rich, creamy eyebrows raised in surprise. "It is true that many of our Vorloren brothers and sisters have been very sympathetic and supportive of us, but I had no idea that the High Monarch was not in control of his own empire. I must confess to you that we do have a network of spies to help keep us informed of what the Vorlorens are doing, purely for defensive reasons, but nothing has ever been reported about this. Are you sure?"

"One of our people," Malcolm replied, referring to Mac, "overheard Hister talking about it himself. He's developed a drug that acts as a mind controller, and he's been giving it to the High Monarch for quite some time now." That information had been one of those helpful tidbits that Mac had uncovered for them.

"Then there _is_ hope that this conflict can end," Wolachea said with a new gladness in his voice. If the Vorloren king could be made to see what was really happening, he might end it all right then and there.

Hoshi decided that now was the time to go into detail about the upcoming attack and the new super soldier army. She described how the Vorlorens had tried to use Mac against Wolachea's people and used her as a pattern for their new army, but she had fought off the Vorlorens' mind control and was plotting to turn their own army against them. It was her, in fact that had provided much of the intelligence that Hoshi had been able to pass on to Wolachea and his advisors.

The Grand Chief had grown very still as he listened. Some of his operatives had informed him of bits and pieces of what the communications officer had just told him, but the more he heard about this "transgenic", as they referred to her, directly from the humans themselves, the more he became convinced that she was the woman in the Dark Guardian Prophecy. The Great Spirit was answering their pleas at last. Tears formed in Wolachea's eyes because it was too good to be true, too much to hope for. She was, in effect, the last hope of their salvation from total obliteration. The Lasiterian leader struggled with revealing this to the humans. _What would they think? Would they laugh and scoff, as many of my own people have done? Or would they believe and allow the transgenic to help us?_

Hoshi noticed the stillness and quietness that had settled over the Lasiterian chief, but hadn't wished to pry because he obviously had a lot on his mind at the moment. Something the communications officer had said though, had deeply affected him. "I understand that we are up against a very formidable and destructive force, but we will not give in, and we will not back down from protecting what is ours," he had finally said, "for we are nothing without our freedom."

She, Malcolm, and Travis had now spent the last five hours conversing with the Grand Chief and his key advisors and had failed to convince them to leave the system. Hoshi realized then that the discussion was over. Now, Wolachea and his leadership needed to prepare for the upcoming attack. Before he left the council chamber, Wolachea graciously thanked Hoshi and her companions for their courage to warn him and his people and for giving them the vital intelligence that would help them defend themselves. It was both frustrating and heartening that the Lasiterians would not flee and would not surrender. They would battle their foe and let the Great Spirit decide their fate.

Hoshi wandered outside to an observation deck trying to come to terms with the outcome of the meeting. Her gaze took in the entire canyon, as she stood high on the plateau above it. The communications officer felt the light breeze of the predawn wind on her cheeks. It was refreshing and helped her clear her mind. Hoshi tried not to cry as she watched the hasty hustling and bustling of Lasiterians getting ready for war, down below her, all along the canyon walls and floor. Hoshi knew the Suliban were out there somewhere in hiding, and that thought was actually comforting to her. It was nice to know that someone was watching their backs for a change.

As she watched, she noticed a few young, newly married couples giving away some of their unneeded or duplicate gifts to elderly or needy families. It was a sight that amazed Hoshi. Those who had more shared their goods and possessions with those who had less. Hoshi saw no evidence of government officials compelling them to live this way; they _chose _to do so willingly and compassionately. The delighted expression on one young woman's face as she gave away some of her goods to a family with six little children filled Hoshi with a welcomed warmth. It was obvious that the mother and father were very grateful and the little kids eagerly gave hugs of gratitude.

It seemed even those that did not follow the Lasiterians' belief system, or religion, still gave freely to those who needed it. Travis told Hoshi he had seen an older gentleman who appeared to be a crotchety, old miser take off his coat and give it to a young Lasiterian soldier who shivered with cold as they had toured through the village. When the young Lasiterian blessed the Great Spirit for the man's kindness, the older gentlemen said he didn't believe in any one Great Spirit, but he felt it was the least he could do for his fellow Lasiterian, and a patriot of the cause for their freedom. Travis had had tears in his eyes as he told Hoshi the story.

The Lasiterians' belief in what they called the Great Spirit was not unlike many religions Hoshi had encountered and learned about on Earth, but the faith of those who truly believed was inspiring. This Great Spirit was kind, loving, and benevolent, but demanded the Lasiterians to better themselves and serve one another. It was this very belief that the Vorlorens hated so much. It was why the Lasiterians were being pushed into extinction; it was what the civil war was really about. Hoshi was coming to learn that the Vorloren history books Archer had her translate for him were full of misdirected truths and outright lies. It contained the baseness of truth, but then became misleading and full of ridiculous propaganda.

Malcolm strolled up the path and placed himself beside Hoshi as she gazed at the all the activity going on below. "Penny for your thoughts, Hosh?" he asked gently, his keen eyes searching for their Suliban bodyguards. He couldn't see them out in the darkness, but he could certainly sense they were out there somewhere.

"I was so sure we could make a difference here," she replied with melancholy in her voice, "that we would be able to persuade the Lasiterians to leave and find shelter and safety somewhere else."

"You can't really blame them for wanting to keep the home that they, and many of their previous generations, worked so long and hard to build," Malcolm spoke as a voice of reason.

Hoshi knew he had a point, but it still bothered her that she had somehow failed. "Should we mention anything about the Temporal Cold War? I feel they have a right to know, but I don't know if it would make any sense to them."

"We can tell them about it when it becomes an imperative." Malcolm laid a hand lightly on the ensign's shoulder. "When the time is right they do need to know all that they are facing, but right now it is a burden they don't need to have added to the stockpile of trouble they already have to deal with."

Hoshi turned to look into the caring eyes of her friend and superior. "You're right, Malcolm. We'll wait, but in the meantime I think we should provide whatever assistance we can."

"Agreed," Reed responded, and then added, "We should contact T'Pol and get _Enterprise _into a position to do the most good in support of the Lasiterians, or as the case may be, the most damage to the Vorlorens."

Hoshi signed wearily and followed her commanding officer back into the leadership building to do just that. As she and Malcolm were returning, one of the young, newly married couples came up to Hoshi and Malcolm.

The young wife had with her a set of finely woven and colorful blankets. "Excuse me," she said softly, her blonde hair blowing in the light breeze. "You too look a little cold. My husband and I are not going to be in need of all the blankets we have. We thought that maybe you and your husband could use them."

Hoshi felt herself blush furiously at the idea that this Lasiterian couple thought she and Malcolm were married. Malcolm's comforting gesture a moment ago must have made them appear so. "Oh, we're not married," Hoshi then blurted out. "We are colleagues and good friends, however."

Malcolm seemed to be fidgeting nervously beside her. "Thank you for kind offer, but we really aren't in need," he tried to say politely.

"How about accepting one, that you as friends could share?" the young wife suggested.

The thought of snuggling up with Hoshi under a blanket was not an unpleasant thought to Malcolm, but Hoshi and he didn't think of each other that way. _Should we?_ he found himself wondering. _Do we really seem like a married couple because we work so well together and know each other so well? Hoshi is a beautiful and talented woman. How do I really feel about this good friend of mine? Is she more than just a friend?_

Hoshi graciously accepting a blanket brought Malcolm out of his reverie. As Hoshi draped it around both of their shoulders and head back into the leadership building, he couldn't help but think about their relationship in a slightly different light. Hoshi, too, was contemplating what might happen if Malcolm ever found out just how much she really did care about him.

* * *

Nemesis was ready to slit Commander Tucker's throat. Instead of proving to be the source of tranquility she thought he would be, he was a wellspring of cacophony. The transgenic was trying to absorb all the information coming at her from a dozen screens, various speakers, and numerous computer terminals spread out in front of her. Tucker was not making it easy for her; his vocalizations were a distraction.

The genetically enhanced woman could process all the telemetry coming in from the multitude of sensors, scanners, and other data gathering devices the scout ship was equipped with. She knew their speed, the air temperature, what the atmosphere was composed of, the different kind of vegetation they passed over or through, the mineral deposits making up the geology of the planet, the variety of animals, and most importantly the location of every Lasiterian. She even picked up human biosigns. She wondered if any Suliban life signs would show up. Nemesis was also memorizing the terrain leading up to and surrounding the Lasiterian base and all the defenses the Lasiterians had protecting it.

They were in the head Vorloren scout ship. Usually manned by forty to fifty Vorlorens, this one contained just her, the chief engineer, five Vorloren super soldiers, and three regular Vorloren soldiers. The scout ship flew with six others just like it. While the transgenic had learned to fly one in just a matter of minutes, a Vorloren was piloting the lead scout ship. Her attention was needed to process all the incoming data; she could do it at least twenty or thirty times faster than the forty Vorlorens it normally took to collect and sift through the data the scout ship could provide. She was pushing herself way beyond what her capabilities had been in the past, but somehow her information processing abilities had greatly increased themselves. The interior of the ship would normally be very cramped and each Vorloren would man an information station and help compile all the streaming data together into one big intelligence report. Nemesis was doing it all by herself and feeding the results back to the rest of the fleet.

They couldn't pass through the Lasiterians deflector shield, but they could see right through it, and they could see through the illusions the Lasiterians had cleverly used to hide themselves, all thanks to Solin and his advanced technology from the future. Yet the other Vorlorens had thought that the brilliant General Torin Hister had invented it for the war effort. All the data gathered was currently being used to plan the final stages of the Vorloren assault. In a matter of a few hours, the Lasiterians would be no more.

Trip was in awe of whom he still considered Mac, as he watched her weed through the barrage of input. Her makers really outdid themselves with her brain's capacity to process and comprehend so much raw information, and he was trying to distract her, not only from her mission to gather intelligence on what the Lasiterians' potential strengths and weaknesses were, but he was trying to get through to the real Mac. It was also hard for him not to stare at her. She had pulled her newly tinted hair up in a long, black leather ponytail holder that looked like a cord. It reminded Trip of the kind of thing one did to a race horse's tail for when he ran, holding the hair tight in a cord to keep it from flying all over the place. The woman was stunning with whatever look she gave herself.

He was shackled a few seats behind her and was purposely being a nuisance with his trying to strike up a conversation. He knew it was risky, and each time he tried a Vorloren super soldier would move menacingly toward him, effectively silencing him for a few minutes. Then he'd try again. Nemesis was already experiencing some lapse in Hister's mind control, but not enough. Trip needed to create a bigger gap. The damned neuro implant he noticed above her right eyebrow was going to make that very difficult. Nemesis wouldn't talk to him, so he was pretending to try and talk to the soldiers around him. One regular Vorloren officer couldn't help but be affected by Trip's genial nature and did engage the human in conversation.

Finally, the genetically engineered woman turned on Trip and growled, "Commander Tucker would you kindly shut up!" Trip just sat there in his handcuffs with an innocent expression on his handsome face_. Hey, at least she said something to me. It was a start_, he thought to himself.

"Sorry," he replied meekly. "I'm just tryin' to keep from goin' stir crazy."

"By driving the rest of us insane?" Nemesis' low alto voice demanded.

Trip did his best to look shocked. "Am I really buggin' you that badly?" He answered her question with one of his own.

"Yes!" she all but snarled. "You will cease and desist trying to talk to me or any of those under my command. My master warned me about your attempts at deception. You will not sway me or anyone else with your lies. You will be silent. Do I make myself clear?"

Trip's eyes widened. This version of Mac was down right intimidating. "Crystal," he told her and dropped his eyes to his feet. Then he hurriedly looked back up at her. He had a quick thought,_ Keep her talking._ "Don't you recognize any of the stories I've been tellin'?" he asked. He had picked key historical events in Earth's history to share with those around him who would listen. All of them had the same theme: good overcoming evil.

Nemesis stared at him for a long moment. She wasn't supposed to be talking with Tucker. Solin had ordered her not to; if she continued with the conversation she would be in violation of those orders, but the commander's question had some validity. She did, in fact, remember each and every one of the events he had come up with and had been blathering on about. She had been trying very hard not to listen, but her enhanced information processing abilities had picked up on his stories anyway.

What troubled the transgenic was that she couldn't bring to mind why she knew them. That kind of memory seemed blocked or inaccessible to her. She also noticed that it was even more aggravating that Tucker appeared to know that she would know them. _Why would my prey know so much about me?_

"No, I don't," she lied. "Now shut up!" Nemesis was not going to admit to this inferior human that she did indeed know the about those historical events.

Trip's brow crinkled in frustration. During her long pause he was sure he saw recognition flash across her expression, but then she denied that recognition_. Damn it, this is not going to be easy._ He folded his arms in his lap and looked away from her again, half indignant, half frightened. The chief engineer was not about to give up, not yet anyway. He needed to come up with something that would infiltrate not only her mind, but her heart as well. Trip scoured his intellect for something, anything that might do the trick.

Slowly thoughts and ideas drifted into his conscious mind, but he rejected each one because it wasn't quite right. Then it hit him; music. Music would get through to her, but he needed the perfect lyric. He would probably only get one chance at it before someone gagged him or killed him, and he knew had to make the dent in her armor larger now, before the battle began. After agonizing minutes, which felt like hours, inspiration struck Trip like a thunderbolt, and he suddenly knew exactly which medley had the best chance at success.

The commander had to act quickly; the scouting mission was almost over. They soon would be landing at predetermined coordinates, meeting up with the rest of the assault force. He started very quietly, and then step-by-step increased his volume. This was a song he knew by heart, so it was easy to recall each precious word and sing it. When he had finally mourned his little sister, he had sung it in memorial for her. Trip's singing wasn't of perfect quality, but when he wanted to, he could make it tender and pleasant to the ear, and he did his best to do so now. He put everything he had into the emotion of the song. It was a very moving and touching song; one he couldn't get through without crying himself. He hoped it would reach through the walls of the creature named Nemesis and touch Mac. He drew the words out to increase their impact upon the human super soldier.

"_Amazing grace! How sweet the sound_

_That saved a wretch like me;_

_I once was lost, but now am found;_

_Was blind, but now I see."_

At the sound of Tucker singing, making noise again, Nemesis went to whirl around and snap at him, but as her ear caught the agreeable sound and her mind made sense of the words, she stopped. She knew this song. Someone very dear to her, though she could not bring him to the forefront of her mind, had taught her this song and the importance of its significance in her life. The transgenic froze as she faced the commander. His eyes were closed in deep concentration, and his expression was one of profound seriousness. She listened, captivated, as he continued. The other soldiers near Trip, following Nemesis' queue, sat and listened as well.

" '_Twas grace that taught my heart fear,_

_And grace my fears relieved;_

_How precious did that grace appear_

_The first hour I first believed._

_Through many dangers, toils, and snares,_

_I have already come;_

'_Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,_

_And grace will lead me home._

_The Lord had promised good to me,_

_His word my hope secures;_

_He will my shield and portion be,_

_As long as life endures."_

Nemesis felt the wetness on her cheeks before she realized what was happening, the words and their connotation touching a small corner of her hardened heart. A strange, but familiar warmth spread throughout her limbs as her heart pounded in her chest. Bits and pieces of memory slipped through the barrier that was trying to hold them back. As they fit together like a dizzying jigsaw puzzle, she remembered a kind and graying man holding her lovingly in his arms and singing to her, teaching her the hymn. His deep and dark blue eyes, clear through the thin glasses he wore, were filled with a pure and parental love.

This man was trying to help her calm her troubled emotions and was showing how to overcome the savagery inside her. Music, like what he was singing, would bring her closer to the angels, than the demons that were warring for her soul. Music like this would quiet the raging of her more primal nature and would help her stay sane when it tried to take her over. _Why would I not want to give into the freedom my beast allows me? What does it mean to be sane?_

Even as these questions came into Nemesis' mind, it was as if by magic or some other force that the anthem Trip was singing started to do just what the nurturing, older man had said. It pushed the demon back, a bit. Nemesis felt the monster inside her begin to fade. The desire to hurt, maim, and kill lost its appeal, at least for the moment. Renewed feelings of kindness, mercy, and compassion worked to replace that evaporating desire.

"_Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,_

_And mortal life shall cease,_

_I shall possess, within the veil,_

_A life of joy and peace._

_The world shall soon dissolve like snow;_

_The sun refuse to shine;_

_But God, who called me here below,_

_Shall be forever mine."_

Instead of finishing with the original last verse of the strain, Trip went back and repeated the first verse. He opened his eyes, and they were filled with tears of love and tenderness. He then looked at the woman who was his friend. Something about his Southern accent added to the spiritual quality of the hymn. The inspirational way he sang was the sweetest thing the transgenic had ever heard. Nemesis shook with the realization that his eyes were strikingly like that of her father's. Victor that was his name, Victor McKnight, not Solin or his Vorloren disguise as Hister.

"_Amazing grace! How sweet the sound_

_That saved a wretch like me;_

_I once was lost, but now am found;_

_Was blind, but now I see."__1_

The chief engineer chose to repeat the first verse one more time, praying his friend would hear him. To his total surprise and elation, a rich, deep alto voice joined his. Nemesis couldn't stop herself from accompanying him. The words just naturally and unconsciously fell out of her mouth. The feelings of comfort, peace, and joy grew stronger as she sang.

She found her mind turning to another figure, she remembered with endearing and adoring feelings. It was Jonathan Archer, her master's key enemy, the one he wanted her to shred to pieces. Somehow she acknowledged that she had been lost and he had found her through the grace of some greater power. Solin was not her creator, Victor Knight had been. The Gorn wasn't the center of her world, but Jonathan Archer was. He loved her dearly, and she reciprocated that love back to him. He was a good and decent man, just as Victor McKnight, her father, had been.

Commander Tucker was Trip to another part of her. A friend of great character and integrity. He was trying to help her because he loved her too. What she had become was not her destiny. It wasn't right, and Nemesis didn't know what to make of this. It conflicted with everything Solin had programmed into her. All of these memories shouldn't be true, but something testified to her that they were. She could not deny her feelings.

Part of what made Mac who she was attempted to break through the darkness surrounding her real self. Streaks of light appeared to pierce the darkness, but it held fast. Nemesis couldn't go against her master's orders, no matter what she came to believe. She would do as he commanded, and the killer insider her wasn't ready to completely let go either. It wanted satisfaction first; it wanted to hunt and slay its prey.

Trip watched as Nemesis struggled with herself and all that he had made her feel and remember. He had made the chink in her armor bigger; he was getting through to her. They both jumped when the scout ship landed and the Vorloren soldiers made ready to depart. The two humans hadn't noticed how close they were to the rendezvous point. The soldiers were ignoring the interaction between the humans. They assumed Nemesis was just humoring the dumb human and would eventually kill him for his unacceptable behavior when the time was right. The situation was none of their business. Besides, the song had been a nice one, and how could a song do any harm?

Nemesis broke her eye contact with Trip and ordered two soldiers to take him away. Trip resisted and sputtered, very distraught. "What…what are you doin'? You can't go through with this attack, not now."

"I have no choice, Trip," Nemesis said his name tentatively. "I must do as my master has ordered." The compulsion to be loyal, obedient, and faithful to her master and his will was still strongly in place. The homicidal monster was cracking and dissolving somewhat, although not completely, and the hardcore mental conditioning would not let go.

Trip was speechless. He couldn't believe that she was still going to follow Hister's commands. Finally he said, "You always have a choice, Mac."

The transgenic approached him as the soldiers undid his shackles from the floor and refastened them in preparation to move him. She slapped him hard and forcefully across his face. Blood trickled out of right side of his mouth. The blow hurt, but not as much as the emotional turmoil his heart felt. "I don't. My will is not mine, but my master's. I must do as he bids me," she told him. "Stop your foolish actions before they get you killed."

"So you're gonna go ahead and kill Jon and me then because Hister has ordered you to?" he asked bitterly.

"Yes," she answered him without any guile. The soldiers smiled approvingly at her actions, relieved that she was doing as their commander wished. Then she rose up on her toes and put her lips next to his ear. These words were for him alone. "But if you aren't around to kill when I am ordered to do so, then there isn't a problem. You don't have to be one of my victims." To the soldiers it looked as if she were terrorizing him with her teeth again. As quickly as she had invaded his personal space, she was gone from it, and the Vorlorens grabbed him roughly and guided him off the scout ship.

The commander was only vaguely aware of where or how he was being led because his mind was reeling from what had just been revealed to him. The transgenic was putting on a show for the Vorloren soldiers, making them believe nothing had changed about her. He realized Nemesis would do as her master commanded, but that didn't mean she wouldn't manipulate around those commands a little, at least in his case. _Will she do it for Jon too?_ Trip had reached a part of her. He had helped her, if only a little.

She would no longer enjoy killing him, but she would still kill others. The mind control was continuing to compel her to obey only Hister, and Hister wanted her to butcher the Lasiterians and the Captain. There had to be a way to do more than fracture the dam that was holding her prisoner. It needed to be demolished, and Trip would not stop until he found a way to do so. Maybe removing that damned neuro implant would be a start.

* * *

Captain Archer had become a savage beast. Dr. Goerner barely had time to laser his wounds closed, careful to make sure his patient wouldn't be left with any noticeable scars, before the human lost control. When Nemesis was finally unleashed upon him, she could start afresh with mutilating the human's body. The doctor had to throw Archer's shredded black T-shirt away. Minutes after the doctor finished his procedure and thought he had properly restrained Archer, the Captain had roared into consciousness and almost broke out of the restraints.

He was wild and ferocious, growling and snarling, straining his bonds. The doctor understood this was not normal human behavior; it was more like the feral animals found in the forests on many of the Vorloren worlds. Archer's eyes were almost completely black, only the merest trace of hazel-green could be seen. The human had managed to free himself of the leg restraints and one of the arm restraints. With the help of several of his medical staff and a few Vorloren soldiers, they were able to force Archer back on to the medical table and restrain him once again.

He fought them tooth and nail, literally. He tried to lash out at them with his limbs, and he gnashed his teeth at them. His fingers came away with silver fluid on them. He had deeply scratched someone, breaking their skin. Dr. Goerner got the leg restraints refastened as well as the arm restraint. He chose to fasten one around the Captain's neck and torso. All touched Archer's bare skin, and his shoes were removed as well. All Goerner had left him with were his black pants, and they were stained with Archer's blood.

The Vorloren doctor had never seen any kind of behavior like this before in his career. This human had almost completely reverted into an animalistic state. It was like dealing with a wild animal that had gone rabid. The doctor couldn't believe how strong the biological and mental connection Archer had to the transgenic woman. It was one for his record books; he would be published again in one of the leading Vorloren science journals.

Dr. Goerner was going to have to take serious action to more fully subdue his patient/prisoner. Even though it was futile for the Captain to resist the restraints, he continually fought against them and attempted to free himself, breaking and chafing his skin, and sweat had broken out on his forehead and chest.

"Let me go! You can't keep me from my mate! You can't stop me from tearing apart the fiend that destroyed her!" His voice was somewhere between a hiss and a growl.

The Vorloren physician tried to reason with the irrational human. "Sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but you aren't going anywhere. You need to settle down and stop this outlandish behavior. It isn't going to do you any good. You will only succeed in hurting yourself."

Archer turned his crazed eyes on the doctor. "I'm going to rip you limb from limb and bathe in your blood! I will slaughter anything that gets in my way! I will not be denied my vengeance!" He bucked against his restraints again, almost dislocating his shoulders, but the Captain didn't seem to notice. Sweat continued to bead up on his body from his fever. "Release me!" he snarled.

Dr. Goerner was beside himself, for he didn't know what to do. He could try sedating the mad human, but then he wouldn't be coherent enough to observe the human super soldier's rampage. Hister had made it perfectly clear that Archer be cognizant enough to witness the transgenic annihilate the Lasiterians before she tortured and killed him, just as that was supposed to be Commander Tucker's fate as well. Even stunning him with a phase weapon for a time wouldn't make General Hister happy.

The only other option the doctor could choose would be to let the human have his psychotic fit, alone in the medical room, and leave him locked up as securely as possible. That choice might lead to the human seriously damaging himself, which might disrupt the General's plans for Archer too. It was a catch twenty-two situation. He tried one last time to talk some sense into the human captain. "If you do not calm yourself, I will be forced to detain you here, locked up and alone."

"Go ahead! Run away, you pathetic little coward!" Archer spat at him, still straining his bonds. Goerner knew the human was injuring himself already, but the Captain didn't seem to care one bit. The doctor could see red welts appearing on the spots were Archer's skin came into contact with the metal of the restraints. "I will get free and when I do, your life will be cut very short."

The Vorloren just looked blankly at the human for several heartbeats, and then made his decision. "I will be back in an hour to check on you. If you are still in this homicidal state, I will have to take more drastic action." He turned to leave and at the last minute faced Archer again. "I don't understand why you are acting this way. The transgenic human female's primal instincts are triggered yes, but they are tightly under control. Why have you lost all your senses?"

The Captain sneered at the balding Vorloren doctor. "Hell if I know, but I have to say, I rather like how I feel." With that Archer laughed, an insane and out-of-his-mind kind of laugh that had Goerner and what was left of his staff running from the room. The doctor posted four guards outside the medical unit and told them to watch Archer closely. If his condition worsened, the doctor was to be notified immediately.

Captain Archer continued to laugh. He couldn't stop himself. _Did I really say what I said to the Vorloren physician? Am I truly losing my mind? _All of his emotions were completely out of control. He couldn't contain any of them, and it terrified his rational side. The rage and fury he was experiencing was consuming him. The need for vengeance was terribly strong. He wanted desperately to strike out at something and make it hurt. This wasn't him. He didn't think like this. That was the problem, he couldn't think at all, not logically or sensibly. The most primitive part of human instinct had hold of him, and he was enjoying it. That was what alarmed him the most.

Somehow he curbed the insatiable need to laugh hysterically. He tried to catch his breath and cease from struggling against his restraints. Finally, he felt his muscles relax and he laid his head back, closing his eyes. He had to regain control of himself. He would be of no help to Mac like this. At the thought of the woman he loved and what had been done to her, the feral part of him took charge again. He worked himself up into another frenzy trying to get loose from his bonds. As he fought to free himself, he realized he had snapped a rib or two. Pain lanced through his torso. With the pain came more anger, more rage. Sweat was pouring off him now in great drops, and his hair was soaked with it.

The door to the medical room opened suddenly and without warning and a single Vorloren soldier entered. He glanced around carefully, taking in all aspects of the medical unit, and found the surveillance camera. He pointed a small device at it, which device he pocketed, and then shut the door, and locked it from the inside. He then drew the blinds that covered the windows and closed them up. Archer, even in his berserker state, was aware of the soldier's actions, and they puzzled him. _What is this idiot doing?_

The Vorloren soldier then slung his plasma rifle over his shoulder by its strap. He cautiously stepped closer to the medical bed that held Archer prisoner. He got close enough to view the Captain and observe him, but stayed far enough away as to be able to swing the rifle back around at Archer, should the Captain try and spring at him. "What the hell do you want, you little bastard?" Archer managed to demand.

White eyes stared at him for quite some time, and then they changed, morphed, becoming a greenish yellow. A Suliban now stood in the Vorloren soldier's place. The black and gray uniform changing into the rusty orange colored body suits many Suliban wore. It was Silik. "I'm here to help you, Jon. It appears you need it." His voice was low and arrogant as always.

"Why in the name of the Ciliain Tar Swamp would you want to do that?" Archer snarled at the Suliban. "The moment I am free I will gut you like a stuffed pig."

Silik shook his head sadly and replied. "Because the future depends upon it, Jon, the future depends upon it."

TBC

**Will Mac come to her senses in time? Will Captain Archer ever be the same again? What will become of the Lasiterian people? Let me know what you think.**

1 "Amazing Grace" was written by John Newton. It first appeared in Olney Hymns (London: W. Oliver, 1779). No copyright infringement is meant. It was just another perfect song for the theme of the story.


	33. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: I decided to give Archer some help from an unlikely source in this chapter and get T'Pol back in the story as well. The next chapter will get back to some key action. Then things will gradually come to a head throughout several more chapters, leading up to the big ending, and I will get to a conclusion. **

**Thanks to Lady Rainbow for once again offering good advice and helping me fix my mistakes. It is really appreciated.**

**Have a good read. :)**

**Chapter 32**

Archer looked at Silik like he had transformed into a fire-breathing dragon with wild eyes and flames coming out of his mouth. The Captain's primal instincts were continually warring with his better nature. The last time he had seen the Suliban, Mac had impaled him with a metal bar, after he had been caught spying on the couple. It had been his men that had attacked Archer and members of his crew, almost ending in Trip's death. Fiery wrath threatened to usurp any practical thought again. He wanted to tear into the Suliban and rend him in half.

Silik caught the murderous gleam in the Captain's eyes. This was going to be much harder than he had anticipated, and he hoped he wasn't too late. Archer's rational mind might be lost permanently. "Killing me would solve nothing and would destroy your only chance at getting out of here," Silik said matter-of-factly.

The savage in Archer had to agree with that point. He wanted his freedom; if Silik was willing to provide it, then he shouldn't refuse it. "What's your help going to cost me?" the Captain asked outwardly calm, but still suspicious.

"Nothing," Silik answered with a small shrug. "Only your promise not to kill me if I release you."

"I think I can handle that," Archer told him with a wicked grin.

"Can you?" Silik asked with concern. "Somehow I doubt your honesty right now, Jon."

The Captain allowed some of his aggravation to fade. He wanted out of these blasted restraints, so he needed Silik to trust him. "I give you my word that if you let me outta here, I won't harm you."

"All right," Silik said, his voice still heavy with doubt. Tentatively, Silik released Archer's leg and arm restraints. Then he removed the neck and torso restraints.

As soon as they were off him, the Captain launched himself at Silik and threw him up against the wall. Archer locked his hands around the neon green alien's throat and tried to strangle the Suliban. Silik was prepared for this and hit Archer with a knee in his ribs, knowing one or more were broken. He'd heard them snap as he'd watched Archer's hysterical fit before entering the room. The Captain's grip loosened and fell away, as he stumbled back gasping in pain. The Suliban quickly pulled the plasma rifle into his hands and aimed it at the human.

"This is set to kill, Jon. Don't make any sudden moves, or I will fire," Silik warned.

Archer fell to the floor; his ribs felt like they were exploding inside him. His breath was coming in wheezes as he lay there trying to recover. Silik shook his head. How had his favorite opponent come to this? It disgusted him. "You have got to snap out this, Jon," he told the man on the ground. "We don't have time for you to act so recklessly."

"Why do you even care, Silik?" Archer hissed through his pain.

"You are too important to the future to lose now," Silik spoke the truth. "McKenna is too important to the future to lose as well. You are the only one who can reach her. Whatever Hister has done to her can be undone, but not with you like this. You need to gain control of yourself. The psychic-emotional connection you have with McKenna works both ways. Fight your own primitive drives and you will help her fight hers. Then you can breach Hister's mind control and help her to throw it off."

The Captain finally made himself sit up, gasping in agony as he did so. "It's too hard to fight, Silik. The raw emotion is too much. I can't overcome it. It's impossible."

This took Silik aback. Jonathan Archer was giving up, and so easily? That didn't make sense, and it angered the Suliban. "Since when have you learned the meaning of the word 'can't', Jon? I didn't think it was part of your vocabulary. Of course you can beat your primal instincts, humans have had the ability to do that for millions of years."

"This is different," Archer said defensively. "I've never felt anything like these emotions and drives before. They are too strong to fight against. I can't regain control."

"This is just great, Jon," Silik let the distain drip from his voice, and he scowled at Archer. "So much for human determination and tenacity. So much for human nobility and self-righteousness. You are no better than the Klingons." Silik began to pace back and forth in the confines of the small room. "You've touted how much your species has grown and learned from its past mistakes. You've proclaimed how you have overcome the desire for greed, power, vengeance, and bloodlust. You've lectured me on doing the right thing, helping someone for only the reward of helping someone. All of it was lies. You're a damn hypocrite, Archer."

What Silik was saying irritated the Captain to no end. They weren't lies. He truly believed all those things he had said to Silik, but humans were still capable of much wickedness. Darkness lurked in every heart to some degree or another. He briefly thought about John Paxton, the xenophobic leader of Terra Prime, and the evil he had perpetrated just recently. The psychotic man had tried to destroy Starfleet Command because he didn't like their policy of having friendly relations with alien species. Paxton had thought Earth's contact with aliens was polluting humanity. He had even created a human-Vulcan hybrid using Trip and T'Pol's DNA, just to prove his point, and then he had planned on murdering the baby. It had sickened Archer to his very core to realize that humans were still so capable of such heinous crimes.

"You saw first hand what kind of violence and aggression humans are capable of back in 1944, World War II. That's part of who we are too," he told the Suliban warrior.

"True," Silik conceded "but remember how it shocked me because all the interactions I had with you and your crew were just the opposite. I found it hard to believe that it was the same species I was dealing with. You and your crew always took the higher road. You acted with mercy, tolerance, compassion, and a naïve sense of right and wrong. You assumed the best in any species you met until they proved you incorrect. Even with Xindi you fought to do what was right when you learned that they were being manipulated into trying to destroy Earth," Silik paused, and then continued on with a little different tact, still pacing back and forth. "Your mission to find and destroy the Xindi weapon was not easy. There were many times you could have stopped and turned back, but you didn't. You pressed on and beat all the odds. You didn't give up. This time is no different."

Silik's words were actually making sense, and they were breaking through the fog in his mind. An enormous wave of despair then hit the Captain, and he slumped against the wall. "There is nothing left of Mac to get through to. She didn't even recognize me or Trip. She tried to kill me for God's sake!" he said, and his voice cracked. Damn it he was not going to cry in front of Silik of all people! The fact that Mac had cut through him with no hesitation or remorse really devastated him. It hurt so deeply that Archer didn't think could recover from it; the pain was too much.

"Do you really love her, Jon?" Silik asked his tone much quieter and less arrogant than before. He stopped his pacing and settled himself right in front of the Captain.

"Of course I love her, damn it! She's everything to me!" Archer exclaimed as if it were self-evident.

The Suliban glared hard at the human captain. "If what you say is true, then prove it. Stop thinking of yourself you selfish human. Self-pity doesn't suit you, Jon. Help her. If you truly love her, then reach out to her. Be there for her. She needs you." Then Silik asked a very serious question. "Do you really care for her, or is all that is between you the drive to mate?" Silik wanted Archer to really take a look at himself and his motivations.

Archer blanched at Silik's words. _Was it all just a chemical reaction between him and Mac? Was it just great sex? Hell no!_ The Captain had only come close to wanting to marry somebody once and carried the scar from its failure, but he had asked Mac to be his wife, his lifemate. She had touched his soul like no other ever had and in such a short time too. She knew him better than he knew himself. She understood him, what made him tick.

He would do anything for her. He wanted her to be happy and safe. He wanted her feel good about herself and feel worthy of love. And most of all, he wanted her to be able to live in peace with herself. He loved everything about her, even her darker side; it gave her great strength. She was capable of so much good and had such a noble spirit. He loved her more than life itself. Mac's greatest trait was that she wanted to better herself, make herself more than she was by overcoming her flaws. He realized that was what it really meant to be human, to strive to be better than you started out.

Instantly, Archer was renewed with a courage and determination he had thought he had lost. He was Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_, and he would not buckle under pressure. He would rise to meet this challenge, just like every other one that was heaped upon him. He had to save Mac, or else life wasn't worth living, and his exploration of space would mean nothing. _What purpose do I have being out here if when the situation gets tough, I back down? _

Mac had filled a hole in himself that he hadn't even realized was there. He would not give up on her. _Didn't I promise her that I'd always be there for her?_ He could not break that promise; it meant too much. He would do everything in his power to help her or die trying. He would even die for her, if it came to that. She had been willing to sacrifice herself for all he believed in and held dear, he would do the same for her. He owed her that much and so much more.

"You're right, Silik," Archer finally said. "I _am_ being selfish. What I'm fighting is nothing compared to what Mac has had to fight her entire life. She was learning how to conquer it and so can I." He would regain control of himself. He would win the battle against his primitive nature.

Silik seemed to breathe a big sigh of relief. "It is about time, Jon," he said.

"Any suggestions on how I can win my internal battle, Silik?" Archer asked with a more humble attitude, admitting out loud that he needed help. He managed to sit up again.

"How do you overcome any of your personal defects, Jon?" Silik answered the Captain's question with one of his own, titling his head to one side.

That made Archer pause, made him think. He was able to think now, and that was a small miracle in and of itself. "By _choosing_ to do so," he whispered.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. The Captain thought of the shores of San Francisco. He pictured the smooth and rolling waves of the Pacific. He listened for the pounding of the surf and sounds of the seagulls. He imagined the spray of the water as it crashed ashore. These were things that brought him peace when he was troubled. It was a place he could go to and feel only the ocean. T'Pol was not the only one who knew how to center themselves and meditate.

Slowly, the rage and fury began to subside. Archer thought of its cause and resolved to face it and process it. Mac was not lost. She was temporarily out of reach, but that could be remedied with careful planning and action. He was not alone. Silik, though he couldn't believe it, was here to help him. Rushing into things and carelessly throwing himself into battle wouldn't get him anywhere. The old caveman modes operandi of beating something with a stick until it was dead would not work here. He was a rational, intelligent, and most of the time, logical problem solver. Primal instincts to give added strength could be coupled with a sound strategy. That would bring Mac back to him and that alone.

The human captain's mind also caught hold of something Mac had said to him earlier, that she felt a power greater than herself was helping her overcome her beast. She had asked for help, and she genuinely believed she had received some. She had exercised a little bit of faith. She couldn't see or clearly identify what had helped her, but she had sensed it in her heart and mind. Maybe he should swallow a little bit of his pride and actually ask for some divine intervention as well. Mac knew she couldn't conquer her primal instincts on her own, and he didn't think he could fully do it by himself either. If it worked for the woman he loved, it might work for him. It couldn't hurt to try it.

Archer silently prayed for help and guidance to beat back his demons. After a few moments, he felt like a gigantic weight had been lifted off of him. He perceived something like a warm blanket covering him in comfort and love. He finally opened his eyes. They were still slightly dilated, but much more hazel-green shone through. The savage in him was still there, but it was pushed back. Primal instincts were good to help a person go beyond their normal limits to accomplish extremely difficult tasks, but not at the expense of what it was to truly be human.

Humans could be savage, but they could also be the most majestic of creatures when they sincerely wanted to be. He believed that in this truth about humanity that Mac might have been more human than anyone he knew, because she didn't want to be ruled by her instincts. She wanted to become more than she was. That was what drove him as well. It was why he wanted to explore. He wanted to learn, experience, and grow so he could become more than he was. The Captain also believed in all the morals, ethics, scruples, and principles he had been taught. They were what matter. They were what made him who he was. He would not give them up or throw them away. He would use them to ground himself and stay focused on a more pragmatic course of action. Recalling them was just the inspiration he needed.

"Jon, are you all right?" Silik asked after the long moments of profound silence from Archer.

"Yeah, I think I am," he replied, and then added with a wince as pain shot through his ribs again, "I don't think I'm cured, but I'm definitely better."

Silik noticed and suggested, "Maybe we should use some of the equipment in here to mend the damage you have done to yourself?"

"I won't argue with that," the Captain told him and allowed Silik to help him to his feet and back over to the medical table.

It didn't take long for Silik to figure out how to work the medical devices he found in the room. After just a few minutes, he had healed what turned out to be Archer's two broken ribs with a Vorloren bone setter and treated the wounds the Captain had given his wrists, ankles, neck, and abdomen when he fought with the restraints. Silik even found medication for Archer's fever and treated a few of the earlier injuries from his fight with Trip. It was a strange feeling letting his one time enemy help him, but the Captain was very thankful that Silik was here. _Who would have thought help would come in the form of the Suliban commander? _The thought made Archer smile. Maybe someone was looking out for him after all.

"You find something amusing, Jon?" Silik asked when he saw the Captain smile.

"Oh, just the fact that I'm me again because of a pep talk from you," Archer said with a small chuckle.

"We are not as different as you think," Silik responded as he finished his dressing of the Captain's wounds. "We both believe in our causes, and we both believe in a sense of duty. I am helping you because I have come to respect you over the years, Jon, and because it is what my benefactor has asked of me. I could have refused, but I have come to like you too much to let you ruin your life."

Archer couldn't help smiling another smile, this one directed at Silik. "Thank you my friend, thank you." The Captain partially believe what Silik had said because of how the Suliban had "died" helping he and his crewmates escape the 1944 nightmare Vosk had created. Maybe he was growing or something on the Suliban.

Silik just shrugged and replied, "You're welcome, but don't get use to it." Then he broke the moment and changed the subject. "Now comes the next challenge. It is my belief that if we can get our hands on one of the cybernetic neuro implants; you could use it to reach McKenna. You could use the implant to boost your psychic-emotional link and have an influence on her. Hister's drug is only part of his control over her. He is using an implant to directly feed programming into her mind," he pointed to his own head as he spoke. "If we can obtain one and find the right frequency to transmit on, then you can interfere with the transmission he is sending to her. I know that Commander Tucker is with her, and he may already be working on breaking Hister hold on her."

_Thanks heavens for Trip_. "Okay, I'm with you so far," Archer said as he stood and stretched, testing out his ribs. The pain was gone, and he could move normally. "But how do we get our hands on one and what about the implant Hister himself must be using? You can move around totally unnoticed and unhindered with your ability to shape shift, I can't. And finding a way to disable Hister's implant won't be easy either," he added at the end.

"As long as we can keep up the ruse of me being a Vorloren solider guarding you, there shouldn't be a problem," Silik said and began his pacing back and forth again. "I can also put one of my people with you as a nurse or orderly. When Dr. Goerner comes back, you have to convince him that you are fully recovered from you psychotic fit." He paused and lift up one finger for emphasis. "Only then will he feel better about bringing you back up to the bridge to get a view of the destruction that is supposed to take place. From there I will acquire a neuro implant and slip it to you. Then you can work on connecting with McKenna and trying to aid her in defeating Hister's brainwashing. I, or one of my men, will discreetly look into what kind of implant Hister, himself, is using."

"Sounds like a plan," Archer responded to Silik's proposal favorably. It was nice that someone had a plan in mind. The Captain paused for a moment, hesitating to ask Silik an important question. Finally, he just spit it out. "Do you think that another faction from the future is trying to change history here? I mean besides your people."

Silik's smug smile slid back into place, and he came to stand near Archer again. "Does that mean that you have come to the conclusion that my people and I are genuinely trying to protect the timeline and not interfere with it? If so, I am greatly relieved." The last bit sounded sarcastic.

"Oh, come on, Silik," Archer replied a little irked, "you and your people have done your share of messing with the timeline to suit your own purposes." The Captain changed his tone to a lighter one as he spoke next, "But to answer your question honestly, yes, I do believe you intentions are good this time around. I don't know why, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Archer's colloquialism confused the alien for a moment before he caught the Captain's meaning. "We do want to help. Our benefactor wants to help. Something is definitely wrong here. Events that were supposed to happen haven't. Events that weren't supposed to happen have. It is very likely that someone one, or some group is at work, changing the course of history. Neither myself nor my benefactor have been able to identify who it is or when they are from." Silik was admitting a lot, but he had to work with Archer for the time being, and he needed the human to trust him.

He went to the door as if looking for something, but then Silik turned back to Archer. "At first, my benefactor thought that the changes in the timeline were his fault, because of his overzealous actions to make sure that history stayed on course. He thought that maybe by trying to steer history along its correct path too much he had actually done damage and steered it in the wrong direction." Silik purposely left out any details. He didn't want Archer to know about McKenna and the Captain's link to his future benefactor.

"Like creating a self-fulfilling prophecy, but in reality, he was fixing what someone else was trying to change," Archer finished for Silik. "I know it is useless to ask you to elaborate on what events you are actually trying to fix, but I have to admit it frightens me what could have been drastically changed if he hadn't decided to check up on the events of this moment in time. I guess we owe him some gratitude for watchdogging the past. It seems like Vosk wasn't the only one who has the power and know-how to directly manipulate the it. I'm surprised that a temporal agent hasn't shone up to police the situation." He himself walked around a bit, seeing if it bothered him, and he just enjoying not being restrained anymore.

Silik grunted. He hated temporal agents. They were always a thorn in his side, but right now the Suliban would have welcomed their help. "I had the same thought. Whatever changes are being made here, may be having a widespread effect across the timeline. Their future may be in such disarray that they don't have the ability to send anyone back to help."

Archer had to admit that Silik's theory was a very plausible one. It also helped to assuage some of the Captain's guilt. He had very rashly and rudely told Daniels never to bother him again. Not that Archer thought of himself as that important, but maybe the Captain's vehemence about the issue had made Daniels weary of him, and foolish pride was keeping Daniels from helping out. The Captain couldn't really believe that though, because Daniels was the type of person that if the future were in real danger he wouldn't let Archer's attitude keep him from lending a hand. Or so Archer hoped. There had to be another explanation for lack of Daniels' participation in this whole fiasco, other than Daniels' wounded pride.

Silik quickly strode back to the room's door, opened it, and stepped out for a short time. The Captain fretted a moment, not liking being left alone wondering what the alien was doing. When Silik returned, he had a partner. A beautiful red headed Vorloren woman was with him. She was tall and slim, dressed in what Archer thought of as blue medical scrubs. She had high cheek bones, a long, slender nose, and very transparent skin. Her bright red hair was up in a bun.

"Captain Archer, I would like you to meet, Ashoria. She is another one of my men that has infiltrated the Vorloren's ranks as an assistant to Dr. Goerner. She will aid us in making your recovery plausible to Dr. Goerner and the rest of his medical staff. You will need to follow her directions and play along with her suggestions. She is your key to getting out of here," Silik explained.

Archer thought he could have been in worse hands, but it still bothered him to have to rely on a stranger, especially a Suliban. He didn't entirely trust them, despite what he had said to Silik earlier. How far did Silik's plants go and for how long had he had his men been mingling in with the Vorlorens? But for now he would accept their help. He really had no other choice at the moment.

"Nice to meet you, Ashoria," the Captain tried to sound sincere as he said the words, and he stuck out his hand for her to shake.

She ignored the gesture. "You need to get back up on the medical bed, and I need to put you back in the restraints." Ashoria minced no words; she was straightforward and direct.

Archer became rebellious at her command. He didn't, in no uncertain terms, want to be put back into those restraints. It was almost an irrational fear that seized upon him when she mentioned them. "I don't think so," he replied, his mouth turning down with a deep frown.

Ashoria looked expectantly at Silik. "You said he was willing to work with us," she accused her commander harshly, "but it seems he is acting just the opposite."

"Look, Ashoria," the Captain said with a lot of irritation in his voice, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not going back into those damn restraints. I'm willing to work with you, but only to a point."

Now it was the female Suliban's turn to frown at Archer. "You will do as you're told. We have figured out everything we need to do to pull off our plan successfully, all you have to do is follow along. It is not much to ask. Dr. Goerner will be back down here soon, and you need to be in the restraints to make our story believable. If he sees you loose he will get suspicious."

"No," Archer told her firmly, backing away. He was acting like a two year old, he knew, but he couldn't get over the fear of being tied down again. He felt his pulse quicken at the thought of it.

Silik seemed to understand where the Captain's reluctance was coming from. "I know you don't want to be held down again, but it will only be for a short time, Jon. Once you and Ashoria convince Goerner you aren't a threat anymore, she will talk him into letting you out of the restraints. The doctor must not suspect that anything is amiss, and that you really have calmed down to a rational state again." He followed Archer as he back around the medical bed. Silik tried to seem non-threatening to relief Archer's agitation.

"No one is going to restrain me again," Archer almost growled. His eyes shifted, dilating widely again, fear of imprisonment or confinement overcoming his more reasonable mind. The survival instincts were kicking in full force. His body stance was instantly tense, ready for a fight.

The Suliban commander sighed wearily. Just when he thought Archer had come to his senses, the human was losing it again. "We need you to do this willing, Jon. Making us force you will undo all the progress I thought we had made and will fail to convince Goerner of your sanity. You are letting your primitive drives control you once again. You must fight these impulses."

The Captain knew Silik was right, but it wasn't as easy as Silik made it sound. "I know, I know," he whispered and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, willing his body to relax and pushing his panic away. When he opened his eyes again, more iris and less pupil was showing. "Let's get this over with before I really flip out."

Ashoria and Silik speedily guided Archer back to the bed and the restraints he so feared. He unconsciously flinched and fought them a bit, but then made himself relax and allowed them to get him situated. Once the restraints were fastened in place, Archer had to concentrate on only his breathing. Panic was threatening to take over at any moment. Sweat had broken out on his body once more.

"It is okay, Jon, you are okay," Silik's voice was reassuring and surprisingly soothing. "Just breathe deeply and try and visualize yourself somewhere safe, somewhere peaceful."

The Captain tried to do as Silik suggested. Finally, as several tense and painful minutes passed, he felt the panic lessen, and he could lie there without hyperventilating. A noise on Silik's belt diverted all their attention away from Archer's condition. "Dr. Goerner is approaching."

"It's time to move into position," Silik informed Ashoria, and he transformed back into his Vorloren soldier disguise. He opened the blinds, reestablished the surveillance camera's real feed, and unlocked the door. He then placed himself just inside the door and pretended to take up a guard like stance. It was not a moment too soon as Dr. Goerner entered the room, with two Vorloren soldiers flanking him.

The doctor took in the scene in front of him. It was a shock to see his assistant, Rasha, administering to the now seemingly tranquil human. He was also startled to see a soldier already in the room at the ready. What had been going on in here in the last hour? Something told him to be cautious. "Rasha, what are you doing in here? Do you know how dangerous this man is?"

The stunning red head turned to look impatiently at her "boss" as she pretended to mop Archer's head "Didn't you see that his bioreadings were off the chart, doctor? Our patient did some real damage to himself. He broke two ribs. I couldn't let him continue to hurt himself. He could have punctured a vital organ and bled to death internally. I had to do something." She flashed big, white doe eyes at Dr. Goerner.

He eyed her wearily, not fully taken in by her explanation, nor her beauty. "But how were you able to treat him? If he was in enough of a frenzy to break his ribs, then how did you calm him so you could see to his injures?" he asked her in a skeptical tone.

"He responded favorably to the fact that I was a female," Ashoria, acting as Rasha, told him with a slightly seductive tone in her voice. "With a little finesse and some charm I was able to sooth his savageness. He seems to like a feminine touch." She petted Archer softly to prove her point. "After that it was easy to calm him down. It appears that other primitive instincts are just as strong or stronger than those of rage and violence." She raised her eyebrows meaningful as she spoke. "Besides I am not an idiot. I brought I guard in with me."

Archer was listening so intently to her outrageous story that he forgot to worry about the restraints. That and Ashoria's gentle touch was nice. He was now trying not laugh out loud. A quick glance at Silik and the Captain could tell the Suliban was also trying not to show his amusement.

Dr. Goerner's mouth movement was making him look like a guppy. He didn't quite know how to respond to his assistance's answer. It took him several moments to shake off his shock, but when he did he confronted the Captain. "And are you truly rational once more?"

Archer turned his full attention back to the Vorloren physician. "I am feeling much more like myself now, Dr. Goerner. My thoughts seem to make more sense and my emotions are not all over the place." The Captain smiled very faintly, hoping it looked penitent and not crazed.

"You no longer wish to rip me or my colleagues apart?" the doctor asked, his voice heavy with disbelief.

"Heavens no!" Archer tried to sound appalled at the idea, but part of him still longed to do just that. "Did I really say that to you?" he asked in a horrified tone, his eyes wide.

"Yes, Captain, you did," Dr. Goerner replied with great disdain. Then, emboldened by Archer's apparent guilt, he became condescending. "I think you owe all of us a great big apology, especially myself."

Archer wanted to leap off the table and deck the Vorloren, but he mastered the primal rage this time. He could pretend to feel sorry; part of him did, at least for acting like a savage animal, not for offending the vile doctor. "I am very sorry for my earlier actions, doctor. Please accept my deepest apologies for any trouble I have caused you. I do appreciate you help."

"There, you see," Ashoria broke in, pointing to a contrite Archer on the medical table, "he is in a much better state of mind. I don't think he needs to be restrained any longer. We can have the guards watch him and move in if he makes any threatening moves. General Hister will not want him to miss the grand battle. It has already started, no?"

She made the suggestion in a casual tone, but Archer blessed her for getting to the point about letting him out of the restraints. He didn't know how much longer he could stay in control of his irrational fear. He was trying not to shake as he lay there. He also didn't miss the fact that the Vorlorens had begun their attack. That meant that Mac had been unleashed on them.

"The General is getting anxious to have Archer view the destruction," Dr. Goerner admitted to his assistant, biting his lower lip, "but I don't want to endanger the crew of this ship either," was his undecided response. "Seeing the transgenic in her current stay my cause his control to slip again."

Indeed, Archer felt his blood boil at the thought of Mac leading the Vorloren super soldier army forward to slaughter the Lasiterians. He glanced at Silik, who shook his head in a subtle "no" gesture, knowing what was going through the Captain's head. "I just want to see my mate," Archer pleaded with true desperation. "I know I can't fight against all of your men. It kills me inside to know what she is doing, but I need to look at her, see her, whatever the cost. I will behave, Dr. Goerner. I give you my word."

The Captain could tell the doctor was wavering. "I can stand by with a powerful sedative, if it comes to that," Ashoria spoke up again, sensing the same weakening in the doctor that Archer did. "We can at least attempt to fulfill the General's orders."

"You would be willing to keep watch over the prisoner and take responsibility for him?" Goerner asked incredulously.

"It is my duty to serve the Empire, Doctor, as is it yours." Ashoria was going for the jugular, hitting the doctor's sense of honor. "This human responds favorably to me. My presence can be of assistance in more ways than one."

Archer watched as Goerner waged an internal battle of his own. The Vorloren physician knew he was between a rock and a hard place. It seemed that not disappointing Hister eventually won out over his concern about the Captain's sanity and his fellow Vorlorens' safety. The General must be a true tyrant.

"I'll allow him a temporary release, but he will be heavily guarded, and you will not leave his side." In reality, the doctor should have offered to not leave Archer unattended himself, but if he could get someone else to bear that burden, he was going to do so.

"The General will be pleased, Doctor," Ashoria said now using Goerner's pride against him; a little flattery never hurt.

Archer visibly relaxed and let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, as the Suliban agent unfastened the restraints. The intense fear abated and the feral instincts continued to recede. Ashoria helped him to sit up, and he had to lean into her for support. Holding back all the raw emotion and containing his need to lash out had taken a lot out of him. It actually made Ashoria's story that more believable because it appeared he had grown attached to her.

A precursory examine was done by Dr. Goerner to confirm what his assistant had been trying to persuade him of all along; Archer's bodily systems were in a much better state than they had been an hour ago. He still had elevated hormone levels, but his fever had broken and the hippocampus region of his brain had decreased in its activity considerably. The Vorloren doctor was then inclined to permit the Captain to leave the confines of the medical exam room and be transferred to the bridge. Four armed guards, along with the doctor's faithful assistant, armed with a hypospray, accompanied him. Step one of the Suliban's plan had been accomplished.

* * *

"The Vorlorens have begun their ground assault," Ensign Melanie Jacobs reported to T'Pol up on board the _Enterprise. _Ensign Jacobs was taking Hoshi's spot while the she was away.

T'Pol was not pleased by the news, but not surprised either. The Vulcan commander was fighting her worry over her shipmates attempting to aid the Lasiterians defense against their enemy and her worry over her captain. Added upon that was her deep fear of what had become of Trip. She had felt a few fleeting emotions of desperation and fear from him through their bond, but that was all. She was using every Vulcan technique at her disposal to repress these strong and potentially debilitating emotions. T'Pol was now turning to logic and reasoning to focus her attention on, instead of her concern for those she a grown so fond of in the last four and a half years.

All the ideas that she came up with had low probabilities of success, but there were a few that, if combined, added up to equal greater odds for achievement. They all had to take into account a high percentage of what Captain Archer would call "luck". An illogical concept to Vulcans, but in essence her schemes required many different variables to line up just right, which was very much like the human theory of "luck". The Vulcan first officer could not just sit idly by and do nothing; she had to act. It was now or never.

She turned to the substitute communications officer. "Ensign, hail the Suliban. I need to talk to them." The order was simple and direct.

"Yes ma'am," the older human woman responded. After only a moment she said, "I have Kajine on the line."

"Commander Kajine," T'Pol replied when the image of the neon-green female appeared on the bridge's front viewing screen.

The Suliban did not look pleased to be hearing from the Vulcan woman. "I have nothing new to report to you at this time, Commander T'Pol. I told you I would contact you when I did. As far as we have been able to determine your crewmen are still with the Lasiterians offering their assistance in defending themselves."

"I realize that not enough time has elapsed for you to have any new information, that is not the reason I hailed you," T'Pol was ever so polite, in her so Vulcan way.

"What is it that you want then?" Kajine's said with clear impatience in her voice, and a scowl on her face.

T'Pol was not going to waste any words on the Suliban. "How difficult would it be for you to equip _Enterprise_ with one of your cloaking devices?" The Vulcan commander didn't ask if it would be possible, or if the Suliban would be willing to install a cloaking device abroad the starship, just how hard it would be to do so.

The Vulcan's questioned visibly took Kajine by surprise, her whole face showed her shock. She recovered quickly, however. "What makes you think that we would even consider such an action? What would it gain you? Why would we share our technology in such a way with you?"

"I cannot stand by and let an entire species be exterminated, especially when the crew and I have been manipulated into the situation," T'Pol was firm. "Captain Archer's last orders were to help the Lasiterians in anyway possible. I am also not willing to leave any of my crew in this system to die without attempting to rescue them. _Enterprise_ and her weapons can be of great help, but only if we can get close enough undetected. We do not have the ability to fight off the entire Vorloren fleet. That would be illogical and suicidal." She paused and moved down in front of the helms station, closer to the screen.

"However, we may be able to assist the Lasiterians by firing upon the Vorloren armies on the ground. We would not be able to do so for long. The Vorloren fleet would eventually detect our presence, but we have a slight probability of turning the tide of the battle on the ground, if we try. It would also allow us time to recover our missing crewmen," T'Pol laid out the whole truth of her plan to the Suliban commander.

Again, Kajine seemed caught off-guard by T'Pol's answer. "We have been instructed not to interfere any further in the situation than we have. We would never get approval to share our technology with you."

"If you listen to the logic behind my request, I don't think you would find yourselves going against any of your instructions," T'Pol said quickly. She took a quick breath and went ahead with the rationale for all she wanted. "You do not actually have to impart any of the technical knowledge of your cloaking technology to us. All you would be required to do is install it, _temporarily_, within our ship's systems. The Suliban would not be directly involved in any of the actions that we would take. I am not asking for you or your people to fight along side us. We would do all the interfering. Once we finished our mission, we would willingly return your cloaking device back to you." T'Pol stood up straight and looked Kajine's image on the screen in the eye. "You would have my word that none of my people would examine or duplicate any of your technology. I only wish to borrow it."

Taking another breath, and walking down the length of the helm, T'Pol continued, "Is it not true that your benefactor does not wish any harm to come to McKenna? The battle has already begun, and she is taking part in it. We may not be able to stop the fighting, but we may be able to buy her more valuable time to overcome the Vorloren super soldier army as she planned. And we would be in a better position to save and retrieve our shipmates," T'Pol stated her case calmly, yet she was filled with apprehension gripping the helm. She did not know about the fact that Mac had changed sides in the battle and was now no longer planning to try and stop the Vorloren super soldier army because of the influence of Hister's new drug.

Kajine knew all about it. Silik had sent her a short data burst, a short time ago, detailing all the new developments. "I am afraid that McKenna may no longer be of help in saving the Lasiterians," she informed T'Pol, and then she explained the recent happenings Silik had reported.

T'Pol made her way back to the captain's chair and had to sit down; her legs no longer seemed to want to support her. She made it seem like a natural and graceful movement, but it really wasn't. "Luck" was not on their side. This was a variable she had not anticipated. Yet even as the Vulcan woman took in this troubling news, she did not fail to notice that Kajine's facial expression went from stoic to very thoughtful.

"Perhaps your ridiculous plan might not be so ridiculous after all," the Suliban soldier said slowly. T'Pol mentally bristled at her idea being called "ridiculous", but outwardly she held to her faithful Vulcan blankness.

"Silik is working with Captain Archer on a way to break through Hister's mind control. McKenna must not be allowed to butcher the Lasiterians, and she must not be harmed. _Enterprise_ and a few of our ships may be a good distraction or a simple tactical tool to buy Silik and your captain the time they need. I will inform Silik of your suggestion and get back to you. Kajine out." With that said the Suliban cut off communications with T'Pol, leaving the bridge heavy with silence.

The Vulcan commander digested what Kajine had told her_. Silik and Archer were working together? How had that transpired? They were going to try and undo the effects of this new and powerful drug._ T'Pol had thought out the possibility of Mac reverting to her more primal nature, losing control in the heat of battle to turn against them, but not like this, not against her will. _Could Captain Archer really reach her? Would Mac be able to stop the madness she was now in the middle of? _These questions set T'Pol's reasoning off in another direction.

_If Mac could be aided in overcoming Hister's mind control, then could the same be said for the Vorloren High Monarch? Could someone break Hister and Romdel's hold on the Vorloren's king?_ When Mac had transmitted that information to Hoshi, it had deeply disturbed T'Pol. Mind control was a dangerous and evil practice. That thought fueled a new determination in T'Pol. If the High Monarch was in his right mind again, then he could take control of his armies and stop the bloodshed. The centuries old civil war could be ended.

It was such a simple idea, but powerful and surprisingly comforting. It would not, however, be simple to accomplish. Someone in the inner circle on the Vorlorens' side would need to be enlisted to help. If an insider could be found and convinced to help, then the idea had a slim probability of coming to pass. And it all hinged on if the High Monarch had a truly good soul, or if his nature would be as black as Hister and Romdel had tried to make it to be.

T'Pol immediately pulled up the Vulcan database from a keypad on the captain's chair. She had a lot of searching to do, before Kajine came back to her with a decision in regards to her plan. The Vulcan had to find a Vorloren in the upper ranks that had sympathetic leanings towards the Lasiterians, a dislike of Romdel and Hister, and it had to be someone trustworthy. Finding a Vorloren that met those requirements was not going to be easy. T'Pol knew that Vorloren resistance cells existed, but who they were and how they could be contacted would be tricky to figure out. They would not want to stand out. T'Pol realized she was in for momentous, if not miraculous task.

TBC

**Who within the Vorloren government could T'Pol seek out and trust to help? You'll have to think back. I did leave clues for who this could be. Will T'Pol's plans be successful? Will Archer and Silik's plans work? Keep reading to find out, and leaving a review would be nice too. LOL!! Thanks!**


	34. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For strong war violence; there are some harsh and gruesome battle scenes, so just be warned. I used the descriptions to evoke emotion and put readers in the moment. There is some language too.**

**A/N: This chapter has to be my favorite one I've written in this story, and that is saying a lot because of the length of the story. This next set of scenes has been what I've been working toward the entire time I've been writing this story. These are the key and pivotal moments for Mac. Readers will notice that what happens to her is a group effort, not just one individual person's effort. It takes everybody doing their part. I think that is symbolic of life, and how many people can affect and change us if we let them. It is usually a bunch of influences or a group of experiences that bring us to a new place. **

**I would really like feedback from readers on this chapter. Even if you haven't reviewed before or don't usually leave a review. I want to know how this chapter goes over with readers.**

**Thanks to LadyRainbow, my kind and helpful beta reader. She makes my posting possible. :) Happy reading!!!!**

**Chapter 33**

She felt exhilaration unmatched to anything else she had ever known. She had never felt so alive before. Every sense was filled with energy, excitement, and raw power. She could smell the fear and panic all around her, taste the blood and sweat, hear the thunderous sounds of battle and the death cries, feel the moisture and heat on her skin, and she could see her enemies, her prey, fall before her, as she took their lives. Nemesis threw herself into the fight and loved every minute of it. All of the sensations she received were magnified hundreds to thousands of times, as she was connected to the vast Vorloren super soldier army.

They truly fought as one. Every thought, command, order, or strategy that came into the genetically engineered woman's mind was transmitted instantly and simultaneously to the thousands of Vorloren super soldiers. She was hooked into a collective consciousness. Nemesis could feel each separate Vorloren super soldier inside her mind and willed them to do as she thought. They obeyed without hesitation; their wills and purposes were totally linked to hers. She could also see through their eyes, hear through their ears, and experience what they experienced. It was a rush like no other, complete and all encompassing. It was like she was on fire and using the flame to consume everything she touched. It felt like nothing could stop her. Her body pulsed with the power, the hunger, and the thirst to take down her prey.

The transgenic knew when a hole was made in a squad of Vorloren super soldiers and filled it immediately with as many new Vorloren super soldiers as she wanted. The human weapon knew where the Lasiterians lines were weak and sent in squads of her own to press the Lasiterians in those weak areas. No part of the combat zone was unknown to her. She understood exactly what was going on in each corner of the battlefield, and they were hers to control and conquer.

Each soldier was a hefty duty war machine. They had no other thought or desire but just to destroy their targets. They felt no remorse, not fear, and no guilt. They were almost like robots, as independent thought was unknown to them. Nemesis fed from these non-feelings and they pushed her beast to the forefront. The little of Mac that had tried to reassert itself had been overwhelmed once Hister allowed the link to be established. Nemesis became what Hister wanted her to be, the perfect killer. Unlike her Vorloren counterparts, however, she felt rejuvenated and inflamed by shedding her humanity and giving into the demon inside her.

The transgenic was using the sais Solin had given her, not a pulse weapon. To her, the sais were a more challenging way to fight, just as the Gorn had suggested they would be. Utilizing a pulse or plasma weapon would have been too easy, like shooting ducks in a barrel, and she wanted a higher level of difficulty. The more hand-to-hand style of combat was more personal, as well; Nemesis could literally reach out and touch her prey. It heightened her predatory instincts and the sensations were clearer, sharper. She liked being able to look her victims in the eye as they died; it was most gratifying.

Most of the Vorloren super soldiers had their plasma rifles and were making short order of the Lasiterians they came across. Some reverted to short swords they had strapped to their waists, when the need arose. Nemesis had to admit that the Lasiterians did know how to fight. Their tightly grouped formations, personal shields, and excellent shooting skills made them very formidable opponents. They had mastered the art of strike and counter-strike and were acquainted with the strategy of turning their defensive moves directly into offensive moves in the blink of an eye. But the Vorlorens had the advantage of sheer numbers on their side, and Nemesis' knowledge of strategies which the Lasiterians weren't prepared for.

The Lasiterians had made one critical tactical error in choosing the particular canyon they had for their base of operations. At the bottom it was narrow and had only one way in or out. The Vorlorens were blocking them into the canyon, their forces large enough to flank and surround the entire area, trapping the Lasiterians and cutting off their only escape route: the flat plateau on each side of the canyon. Still the Lasiterians fought onward not showing any signs of surrendering, even as the numerous Vorlorens were gradually overcoming them.

Just as Hister had predicted, the Lasiterian deflector shield had been weak where it met the surface of the planet, and the Vorloren army was able to breach it at its thinnest points. He ordered Nemesis to push wave after wave, battalion after battalion of the Vorloren super soldiers through the breaches. Hister sent Vorloren hovercraft through the holes in the deflector shield as well, followed by tanks with plasma cannons mounted on them. The situation was getting desperate for the Lasiterians.

Nemesis ran straight for a small platoon of Lasiterian soldiers, avoiding each blaze of weapons fire that came at her with skill, speed, and agility. She had been hit a few times, but she healed the wounds almost instantaneously. The drug Solin had given her accelerated the Gen Virus' regeneration process, among making other changes in her. The transgenic lashed out with two low body strikes, metal biting through the Lasiterians armor on her nearest opponent's legs. He screamed in torment as he fell to the ground, blood flowing silver from cut arteries. Nemesis finished him off with a cold and calculated slice to his throat, severing his head from his shoulders.

She breathed in deeply the heady, candy-like smell of his blood. She was tempted to lick the richly covered sais, to taste the sweetness there, but two more Lasiterians moved into attack her. As she turned to face them, she swore she heard a voice speaking to her. It was soft, quiet, calming, and comforting all at the same time, but it spoke with authority and great force as well. _You must stop! _It seemed to say to her. _This is not right. You know it is not right._ She realized she had felt this admonishing voice before, but not from when or why. It seemed foreign, yet familiar at the same time.

The human super soldier tried to ignore it as she slashed at her two opponents, catching one's arm and the other one's torso. The sais tore through the armor, like it was tinfoil. The arm dropped unceremoniously to the ground; its owner crying out in agony. The enemy combatant with the sai in his gut, gasped, gurgled silver blood from his mouth, and collapsed on the ground as the sai opened up his insides. Again the voice — or was in an impression — tried to break through the acts of carnage, this time calling her by name. _McKenna,_ _you must stop this! You are shedding innocent blood. This is not your destiny._ This time the voice was full of supremacy and intensity. It did not want to be ignored. _You must stop!!!_

Nemesis now hesitated, confusion and doubt spreading through her mind. _What is going on?_ she wondered. That voice was not Solin's, General Manglin's, or any of the others under her command. _Where is that coming from? Who is it? Why does it make me feel guilty about what I've been ordered to do? Why do I want to do as it instructs? _In her moment of indecision three more Lasiterians had moved in on her position. One fired at her and hit her squarely in the chest.

The weapons fire threw her back a few meters, and she landed flat on her back. The pain lanced up through her chest to her arms, neck, and head. A massive, smoking wound had opened itself up in her chest. The Gen Virus went to work immediately, healing and sealing the injury. The whole situation left Nemesis in shock for a short time, and she let herself lie there, trying to recover. A squad of Vorloren super soldiers quickly came to her aid and started pushing the Lasiterians back again.

_What am I doing? Why did I hesitate? What is wrong with me? _she thought. As she lay there attempting to reorient herself, she became aware of another presence in her mind. It was different from the still, small voice that had caused her to pause. It was male and familiar. The owner of the presence appeared to be standing on a beach in her mind's eye. She watched in wonder, as the shore and ocean seemed to coalesce out of mist in front of her. Beautiful, full waves began to roll into the shore that had materialized. She could smell the salty air, feel the wet spray, and hear the soft pounding of the surf. It was exquisite, making her calm and tranquil. All her pain seemed to disappear.

Then the genetically engineered women saw a man walking along the edge of the water, barefoot with khaki pants rolled up to his mid-calves. He had on a light, olive green, short-sleeved, collared shirt. She knew him; it was her master's enemy, Jonathan Archer. He stopped at least ten meters away from her_. Why am I sensing him? What is this place I'm seeing? How is any of this possible?_

"Hi, Mac," Archer said softly from his spot on the shore's edge. His voice was like a smooth river of water, flowing over her and into her, refreshing and soothing. This was not right. Her master's enemy was trying to take control of her, turn her against her commander; she had to resist him.

"Stop your silly mind games!" she spat with vehemence and rancor at him. "I don't know how you are invading my thoughts, but it won't work. You will not succeed in separating me from my master."

Her rage and anger direct towards him distressed Archer. "I'm trying to help you, Mac. Hister is the one that's trying to separate _us_. He's not your master. No one is. I'm the man who loves you. You need to remember." He never raised his voice. He was very composed, yet earnest in his words. "I love you, McKenna McKnight, and I want you to come back to me."

Something stirred deep within Nemesis. She felt the gentle brush of his thoughts and his feelings. He meant what he said; he loved her. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her. A part of her wanted to respond, to rush to him, and let him take away her heartache. She tried to shake herself mentally; this was wrong. He was her enemy, and she had been commanded to kill him. She couldn't let him confuse her like this. Her master would not tolerate this weakness from her. "Get out of my head, you filthy bastard!!" she yelled at him.

Again, her words appeared to hurt him deeply, but they did not stop him. He had to get her to remember who she was. "You are McKenna McKnight, created by your father, Victor McKnight. He taught you how to be compassionate. He taught you the meaning of mercy and justice. He instructed you in how to overcome the demon you carry inside you. He helped teach you to rescue those in trouble, not to murder them."

These were all lies. This creature was speaking pure fantasy to her. She was a monster, a killer, nothing more. "Your lies won't work. I'm going to kill you," and with that said, her sais appeared in her hands, and she rushed forward to do just that.

* * *

Archer gasped and pulled himself back to the bridge of the Vorloren battleship and out of Mac's twisted and confused mind. He could have sworn he felt her stab him through with one of her new weapons. He shook and had to grasp the control panel in front of him to steady himself. That had been awful. Mac hadn't listened to a word he had tried to communicate to her, and she had turned on him and tried to end his life. The Captain fought back his tears of frustration and fear. Hister's hold on his beloved princess was iron tight. He had failed. He was losing her.

Silik was standing only a few feet away from Archer, making sure no Vorloren noticed that the Captain had a neuro implant imbedded in his temple. He was using his cloaking ability to hide it. He quickly noticed something was wrong. "What happened, Jon?" he asked quietly. "Did you make contact with McKenna?"

It was a strange experience to hear Silik's low voice coming out of what looked like a Vorloren soldier. Ashoria sat a little ways away from him pretending to be working on a medical report. She had been kind enough to find Archer a new black shirt and clean black pants, but no shoes.

"Yeah, but she went ballistic on me and tried to stab me to death," Archer replied, his voice heavy with despair.

"What did you say to her?" Ashoria asked just as quietly as Silik had.

The Captain quickly summed up the experience for his comrades. Then he said, "Hister's control is really strong, a lot stronger than any of us thought."

"You're not giving up again, are you, Jon?" Silik wanted to know. His irritation was evident in his tone of voice.

Archer was instantly defensive. "Of course not," he said testily, "but I need to come up with a new strategy. The straightforward approach is not going to cut it. Any bright ideas?" he added sarcastically.

Ashoria ignored the sarcasm and took up Archer's challenge. After a thoughtful moment she suggested, "Why not try to get through to the Chimera, and not Mac? The Chimera is McKenna's source of strength, is she not? Bring the Chimera to the surface, and let _her_ fight Hister's mind control."

"What?!" the Captain tried not to shout. He did not want to draw any unwanted attention, but Ashoria's suggestion upset him. "The Chimera is also Mac's dark side. What makes you think she'd be any better than the demon we're dealing with right now?"

"The Chimera is fond of you too, is she not?" It was a rhetorical question, so Ashoria continued on. "This new monster that Hister has tried to create has no loyalty to anybody, but him. The Chimera is independent, but loyal to what she thinks of as her pack, her family. Get her on your side, and she will fight off this new influence. Besides, hasn't McKenna been able to reconcile the light and dark sides of herself, gotten them to come together, to work together? If you can get the Chimera to come forward, you are really just getting McKenna's fighting side to come out."

Archer just stared at Ashoria_. How in the hell does she know so much about how the Chimera thinks and functions? How does she know so much about Mac?_ The more the Captain thought about what she had said though, the more it made sense.

The Chimera desired to be part of a group and wanted the connection they could provide. This new animal wanted nothing of any of that; Nemesis was programmed to only obey Hister. Mac had told him that she and her darker side had, indeed, made peace with each other. Maybe the Chimera would want to help. She liked to hunt and kill her prey like this present beast did, but she also knew what it was like to save a life at almost the cost of her own. He had seen Mac make short order of the Vorloren soldiers that had attacked them in the woods back on Quantima. She had kicked ass without killing anyone for the first part of the battle, to protect him. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be willing to embrace that kind of technique again. It was a crazy plan, but it might just work.

* * *

Hoshi observed helplessly as Wolachea watched his brave, young warriors die in great numbers. She was standing in one of the many Lasiterian command centers located in a niche halfway down the canyon wall. Rows and rows of control panels with many blinking lights, buttons, and viewing screens littered the place, along with big tables that projected three dimensional maps. Malcolm and Travis had been supporting some of the Lasiterian captains in battle strategy and tactics, coordinating the warriors and drawing up defensive plans, but it was still a losing fight.

What had been the worst revelation was that Mac was not on their side anymore. Something bad had happened to her, for she was leading the Vorlorens in their murderous assault on the Lasiterians. She cut down the Lasiterian defenders left and right with no sign of her letting up. The transgenic was obviously not pretending to fight along side the Vorloren attackers to then turn on them and help the Lasiterians. She was slaughtering the Lasiterians for the pure enjoyment of it.

It was horrifying to watch the Vorloren super soldiers fight in perfect formations, with total exactness and cohesion; they worked as one. The cybernetic implants did their jobs flawlessly. The super soldiers meticulously picked off each of their enemies with unequalled precision and unwavering momentum. Wolachea had never seen anything like it before in his life, and there were _so_ many of them. Even though the Lasiterians could bring the Vorloren super soldiers down with enough fire power, there always seemed to be more and more to take their place.

Maybe he should have heeded the humans' warnings to flee after all. He had believed that the human super soldier would be their salvation, and that she would turn the tide. She had turned out to be their destruction, their end. The transgenic was extraordinary and astounding in battle, not to mention absolutely beautiful. If she was to personify their death, he could think of worse forms it could take_. Why has she joined the Vorlorens? Why does she butcher my people? The other humans were so sure she'd help us. They've been terribly mistaken or misled._

"I am going to go join my people in battle," Wolachea announced suddenly. "I cannot stand by and watch them go to their deaths and not fight along side them."

Hoshi stared at him. "What will your people do if they lose you?" she asked of him.

"I will not ask them to do anything that I, too, would not be willing to do," was his answer. "If we are all annihilated, who leads us is irrelevant." And then he was gone from the command center, leaving Hoshi to ponder the implications of his statement.

She continued to watch the battle on the viewing screen in front of her, her eyes riveted on Mac, as she took out Lasiterian after Lasiterian. Then, unpredictably, the human super soldier paused and was gunned down. Hoshi assumed that the transgenic would heal and pick up right where she left off, but Mac stayed lying on the ground. Her eyes were open, but unblinking. She was breathing, so she wasn't dead, but something unusual was happening. After many more minutes she finally stood. Hoshi saw her pick up her sais and once again resume her slaughter of the Lasiterians. _What was that all about? Did Mac just lose focus for a short time? Did whatever control had been placed upon her falter, just for a moment?_ were Hoshi's thoughts.

The young communications officer didn't believe that Mac, who had saved Trip's life so unselfishly, would be committing genocide of her own free will. Then it hit her, the cybernetic implant; maybe she was being controlled with it. An ingenious thought began to form in Ensign Sato's mind. Whatever signal was being used to allow one cybernetic implant to communicate to another one had to operate on some kind of traceable frequency. If Hoshi could locate the right frequency, maybe she could disrupt or disable the neuro implants' abilities. The Lasiterians had all the right technology to do so; all they needed was the right communications expert to make it happen.

* * *

Nemesis was back in business, much to the relief of her troops. Losing their connection to her for even a short time was troublesome. They were still able to perform their duties, but the confidence she gave them had left them for a brief time. She struck out even more viciously at her enemies than before, urging the Vorloren super soldiers to do the same. She got no argument, only total compliance with her orders. Each Lasiterian she fought died an ugly and torturous death. She showed no mercy and gave no quarter.

The transgenic was furious that she had faltered, even for a moment. She was determined to show her master her undying loyalty and devotion. The evil Captain Archer would not have any power over her; she had fought him, pushed him out of her mind, and she was prepared if he tried again to invade her mind. With another brutal blow, she hacked another Lasiterian soldier in half. This time she let herself taste the blood as it sprayed her; excited electricity shot through her at its honey taste.

It was then that the world seemed to tilt on her. She felt dizzy and couldn't focus on anything. Two pulse weapons hit her legs, and she tumbled down the slight hillside she had been fighting on, her sais falling from her grasp a second time. She realized someone was trying to get into her thoughts again. Nemesis expected to see Archer on his asinine beach again, but that was not what her mind's eye beheld this time. She saw an older man, with graying hair and glasses, arguing with men in trench coats_. What madness is this? _This scene brought feelings of intense dread and foreboding to her.

The argument grew more and more agitated, and then it became something out of a nightmare; a nightmare the transgenic knew was hers. One of the men in trench coats took out a gun and fired multiple times into the gray haired man with glasses. His body jumped as the bullets ripped through his body. The momentum threw him into the wall, where his blood and flesh had splattered. His lifeless body slumped to the floor, blood spreading out in a wide pool around him and slipping down and out of his mouth.

Nemesis cried out in horror, "No, father, no!" She was not witnessing this again. It was not happening again.

The transgenic's whole body shook with grief, and she felt the tears slide down her face like a waterfall. He was dead, murdered right in front of her eyes; the man that had loved her as his own child. The man who had played with her, taught her, and helped her understand who she was. The anguish she felt was more than she could bare. Something in her snapped.

That was when she heard Archer's voice. "Are you going to let them get away with this, Chimera?" he asked her in an accusatory tone. "Aren't you going to do something about it, Chimera?"

Anger and fury flooded into her heart. The need for vengeance and retribution burned within her. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside her soul. She no longer cared about Solin or his commands. Her need to make someone pay for her father's death was paramount. The beast that was Nemesis was swept away as the Chimera came roaring back to life, full force, as Archer called her name, and she remembered. The neurotransmitters in her brain fired her synapses out of control and one beast was rejected for another. There was the brief image of a wolf attacking a leopard, with the leopard becoming the wolf's kill. Jaws closed on a throat, and the leopard's neck cracked with the sickening snap of bone. It was dead and would never come back again.

The human super soldier's body went into convulsions, seizing, as her frontal lobe literally rewired itself, changing her personality, her image of reality, and her concept of herself. The Chimera was in control now. All of Hister's new and improved drug purged from her system. His mind control was a distance memory. No one controlled her, no one! The beast inside of the transgenic raged and howled. It wanted blood, it wanted to inflict pain, and it wanted to make the one pay who had done this to her. She now wanted to rip Solin or Hister, or whoever he was, limb from limb. She grasped the concept that she had dispatched of her father's murders long ago, but she now she had a new enemy to wreak her vengeance on.

"Chimera, can you understand me?" a voice tentatively asked. "It's Jonathan."

In the next moment the Chimera, with her amber eyes, sharp, straight teeth, and black claws, was standing on the shore of a beach. Her hair, still streaked with its whitish blonde coloring, was blowing in long curls down her back. The salty smell of the sea felt like it was calling to her. The crash of the waves was embracing her. The water gently lapped at her bare feet with the wet sand between her toes. It felt very good. She had on black slacks and a black, sleeveless blouse. She understood that her Jonathan was with her. _Oh how I've missed him! _she thought. He corporealized out of the mist only a few meters away from her. He was dressed in the same khaki rolled up pants and light green, short-sleeved, collared shirt.

"Yes, Jonathan, I can see and hear you," she growled. Pleasure filled her at the sight of him. Her violent anger was momentarily put on hold.

It took only a split second, and then she was in his arms, wrapping herself around him, and his lips devouring hers. The kiss was wild, almost ferocious. The savage within Archer was wide-awake with the reviving of the Chimera. They embraced passionately tasting and drinking each other in, like thirsty men who had been in the desert for days to then come upon a rich source of fresh water. They caressed each other, nuzzled each other, nipped at each other, and rubbed their cheeks against each other. "I want you, Jonathan," was the first thing out of the Chimera's mouth when they finally decided to breathe again.

"I'll agree with that," the Captain replied, his voice thick with lust. "I want you, Chimera."

The Chimera licked her lips in anticipation of what her Jonathan could do to her. She liked him like this; feral, primitive, strong, fearless, and primal. She noticed his eyes were fully dilated, all black; he was now like her. They could visit destruction upon their enemies together. That thought filled the Chimera with a rush of excitement and a surge of adrenaline. Her mate would hunt with her now. The Captain knew he was out of control, but he didn't care. He had his mate back, and that was all that mattered. He would do anything to keep her by his side. He liked the untamed freedom she made him experience; it was a high like no other.

"What are you waiting for?" she baited, rubbing up against him.

"Hell if I —," he started to respond, but never finished. He vanished; he was gone. The Chimera howled her displeasure as her hands grabbed only at air. The anger and fury came flooding back through her again. Then she remembered that this was all in her mind; her Jonathan had only been with her in her mind. Something must have happened to break the connection she had with him, and her wrath became red hot and explosive. Whoever had taken her Jonathan away from her would not live to regret it.

The Chimera then found herself lying in a heap at the bottom of a small incline, as she returned to reality. She picked herself up and brushed herself off. Her body completely healed from the fall she had taken and the pulse rifle blasts. The newly freed transgenic now needed to prioritize things on her to do list: kill Solin, kill Romdel, kill the Vorloren super soldiers, kill the Lasiterians, find her Jonathan, and so on. She remembered everything the Gorn had done to her, how he had tried to dominate her and make her his servant. She growled at bowing down to that reptilian bastard. She would show him who was the real master here.

Then she recalled the fact that he was a temporal agent, trying to change the future by messing with the past. Something told her Jonathan needed to know this vital piece of information. It was extremely important to him to understand this fact. She had to contact him. Then the realization of the neuro implant hit her. That was how Jonathan must have been able to be in her mind. He must have found a way to get his hands on a cybernetic implant and join the collective mind to get to her mind. The Chimera smiled at her mate's ingenuity; she knew she liked him for a reason. Someone must have jammed the signal connecting all the neuro implants together, for she couldn't sense the Vorloren super soldiers anymore either. She would have to get Hister's true identity to Jonathan another way.

The transgenic cautiously made her way back up the hill and peeked up and over the top to see what was going on. She noticed the sais the Gorn had given her, laying not far from the top of the small hill. They truly were magnificent weapons, but they were tainted by Solin's alien touch. She would not use them to kill for him anymore. She would find another weapon to kill for herself. The battle still flourished as she used her enhanced sight to view her surrounding, but the Vorloren super soldiers were not as unified as before and some appeared disoriented, even confused. The Lasiterians were slowly making a come back. Something deep within the Chimera was glad to see that. Maybe she should take killing the Lasiterians off her to do list. She got the impression that they were not really the enemy; she would see.

Out of nowhere came a critical, but forgotten fact: Trip. The Chimera had to rescue him_. How could I have failed to put that very essential item on my to do list?_ The chief engineer was her pack mate; he was in danger, and she needed to remedy that situation. The transgenic recalled that he was not far away, as he was being held prisoner at one of the Vorloren's mobile command centers. She had to get her pack mate out of the clutches of the Vorlorens. It would be only a matter of time before Solin realized that she was no longer under his control and would kill Trip.

Her priorities suddenly changed. Trip's safe return to the pack was her top priority; killing and revenge could come after she had saved him. The thought of tearing through a bunch of Vorlorens to do so was very appealing to her, however. Once Trip was safe, she would find Solin and kill him, and then she would reunite herself with her Jonathan. Being with Jonathan again, her mate, was a delightful thought. Bringing him back something he cared for deeply, alive, would be a sweeter experience and more rewarding than bringing him back one of her kills. The Chimera remembered with trepidation how sharing in a kill had revolted her lover. She liked this new plan of hers.

She slowly, and with much stealth, started to make her way back out onto the battlefield and towards the Vorloren mobile command center to the west of her current position. She sniffed the air and engaged her advanced hearing to gain a greater understanding of her environment. Some Lasiterians were advancing in the direction of the mobile command center, blasting their way through the Vorloren super soldiers to try and overrun the center. The Chimera realized that she had to hurry.

As she grew closer to her target, a series of three violent explosions rocked the ground around her, almost knocking her off her feet. She looked off to her left and snarled at what she saw. The Vorlorens had decided to employ what reminded the Chimera of an Earth-type rocket or missile launcher. When the projectile exited the launcher it split into three separate missiles. The resulting explosions blew up everything with in a hundred meter radius, times three. The heat and vaporizing fire given off by the missiles impacts reminded the Chimera of something akin to napalm.

These were obviously older weapons, but effective and very destructive. They could evidently pierce the deflector shield because they were slower projectile weapons with low energy signatures, unlike a phase or plasma cannon. The transgenic wondered why the Vorlorens had started to use them now. These weapons had not been transported or deployed with her knowledge of them. It was something Hister, or Romdel for that matter, had chosen not to share with her.

Three more ground-shaking explosions went off, this time to the Chimera's right. The forest was ablaze, and she could smell burning flesh. Some of the missiles had found soft targets. Thick, black smoke filled the morning sky. _What a dishonorable way to fight_, she thought_._ _The lazy Vorlorens can sit tight in a secure location and lob the missiles at a large number of Lasiterians without having to face their enemy. It's disgusting._ _So much for the up close and personal kill._

It would only be a matter of time before one of the ground force units found a way to disable the deflector shield and Romdel and Hister would unleash the Vorloren Space Command upon the helpless Lasiterians. They would win, using any means they could to do so. The Chimera guessed that the super soldiers were not living up to their hype, and now Hister and Romdel were going to plan B.

She tried to listen for the telltale sound of the missile shooting out of its launcher to get a sense of the cowards' location. Instead, what she heard chilled this beast to the bone. It was the sound of children, even a baby, crying. _What in the hell are a bunch of little kids or infants doing out here? This is a battlefield, not a nursery. _She crept closer to the faint sounds of wailing that seemed to be coming from the northeast. This trivial detour would take her a way from Trip, but something whispered to her that she had to check it out.

For all the malevolence that the Chimera had inside her, she could not see death come to young ones. They were off limits, for they were still innocent. A different kind of rage kindled within her against any monster that would massacre a group of innocent and defenseless children. That was where she drew the killing line. She had to find them and help them get to a safer place to hide, away from the Vorlorens' new use of primitive, but effectual technology.

After a short journey through a narrow ravine, just down from the main canyon the Lasiterians called home, her hearing and sense of smell led her to a small building, cut right out of the canyon wall. It looked like a sentry's post, a place to watch for approaching friends or foes, or it was almost like a checkpoint, a gateway for inspection. When she quietly entered the adobe-like structure, she found no one. The building appeared to be deserted. The first room looked like a waiting area. A simple, circular, wooden table and a few wooden chairs occupied the cramped space. There were two other rooms in the back, one to the right and one to the left. She snooped in both.

The room on the right was the largest room with a full body scanner, a large container scanner, computer terminals, monitors, cameras, and other equipment set up for detection and investigation. She moved to the room on the left and found a storage facility for supplies, spare parts, food, weapons, and so on. The room was full of boxes and barrels. Shelves lined two of the four walls. An old, musty area rug covered the floor in this room. The Chimera's eyes went to the particle weapons locker in a gun cabinet on the third wall.

The transgenic ripped the metal door completely off its frame; lock, hinges, and all. She threw it to the floor and acquired two weapons from the now open wire and metal cabinet. After careful examination, she recognized that they were fully charged and had multiple power settings. They seemed easy enough to use, and they would get the job done. Now she had a set of her own weapons to defend herself with. _Defend myself with? Don't I mean to destroy my enemy with? _

Then she heard the heartbeats; three of them, under the floorboards, somewhere down by her feet. The baby she'd heard earlier broke its silence with another series of wailing cries. The genetically engineered woman could smell a honeysuckle or almost Russian Olive scent. She realized that the ugly area rug was not for decoration, but to hide a trap door; it probably covered a cellar.

Holstering the weapons in her boots, she whipped the rug away to reveal a heavy, metal, reinforced door. She found the secret door's handle, and with a tough heave, pulled it open to find three dirty, scared, and huddled Lasiterian children. The oldest couldn't have been more than seven years old, by the transgenic's estimation. The youngest was about six months old and was clutched in the seven years old arms. The middle child could have been four, maybe five_. Who's left these children here to fend for themselves? __There doesn't seem to be any adults around._ The human super soldier heard no other heartbeat, saw no one, nor smelled any other presence. _Why have these young ones been hidden here? _

More explosions ripped through the area, getting closer to this tiny outpost. One would eventually find its way here the Chimera's gut instincts told her. She had to get these kids out of here. Then she paused. _Why should I even care about these aliens? They are not from my pack. They are not my children. I should turn around right now and leave them_. For some reason though, she could not seem to make her feet walk out the way she had come in.

The Lasiterian children stared at the transgenic with wide, fearful eyes. They took in her fierce, wolfen eyes, her extended, pointed canines, and her razor sharp talons on her fingertips. She looked like the boogieman from their nightmares; the ones their parents told them would get them if they misbehaved. She was the creature that lurked in the dark, waiting for a child to wander too close, and then she would strike. They had seen what she had done to the Lasiterian soldiers. Most of the battle had been fought not far from their hiding place.

"Please, ma'am, kill us quickly," the oldest little girl said, her voice shaking.

"Why would I want to do that?" the Chimera growled back, her amber eyes flashing.

"Our mama said you would kill us all," the little girl replied. "That you were a demon sent from the Great Spirit to punish us." She was a petite, tiny thing, holding the infant securely against her. She had light blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and her skin was like coffee cream. She had big, blue eyes that shone with a grim determination for one so young. Her tan tunic and skirt were torn and covered with mud.

"What?!" the Chimera snarled. She had no idea what this alien girl was talking about. It was true she was a demon, but she was not here to punish innocent children. "Your mother's wrong. I'm not here to harm you. Where _is _your mother now?"

The little girl grew braver; she was going to stand up to this monster in front of her. "She went to help fight, to protect our home and our freedom. She told us to stay here and stay hidden until the battle was over. She said we would be safe."

"Then she was a fool," the Chimera snapped, and the children all cringed at her biting tone, the baby crying harder. "Your enemies are launching missiles at this area. Nothing will survive their heinous fire."

The other little girl that was maybe four or five stepped closer to the Chimera. Her hazel-blue eyes were enlarged from fear. "Are you really the lady from the Dark Guardian Prophecy?"

"Shut up, Merlene," the older girl cautioned harshly, trying to shush the infant.

The question had taken the Chimera aback_. What is the 'Dark Guardian Prophecy', and what does it have to do with me? Who are these Lasiterians really?_ "I don't know the context of your question," she replied, and then she became short with them again. "I have to get you out of here, now, before one of those missiles comes through this ravine." And almost as if her words had willed it, a huge fireball hit the ground a few hundred meters in front of the building, shaking its foundations, blowing out windows, knocking furniture and equipment around, and making their ears ring. Everyone could feel the heat that it was putting off.

"Come on, we don't have much time." She held out a hand to them. Again, part of her thought this was a waste of time, and that she should leave them to their deaths. _They aren't my responsibility_, she reasoned.

_But they are, _came the same, soft and peaceful voice she'd heard before. When the children didn't move the Chimera said, "Look, you can either take your chances with me, or let one of those fireballs hit you and burn you alive."

That graphic statement seemed to spur the children into action. They shot out of the little root cellar, scampering up to take her offered hand and allowed her to guide them from the building. As they exited, the Chimera knew, without a doubt, that a missile was coming straight for them; there would be no time to get out of the way. She could sense the missile flying like a shooting star towards them. She could not let its flames devour the children. She was choosing to save them, so she had to stop it.

The human super soldier stood her ground and waited as the projectile full of liquid fire soared closer and closer. She would stop it; it would not kill these little ones. One look at the angelic face of the baby and the Chimera's heart softened, melted. She would save them, and she would adopt them as her pack. She would fight for them. This alpha would protect them and make sure nothing could harm them; that was her job. It was why a pack had an alpha, someone to look out for the weak and the young. The beast's soul burned with determination. She _would_ defend them.

She held up her hands as if to block the missile or catch it. This seemed so very futile, but she did it anyway. A strange tingling sensation flowed throughout her nerves. As the missile became visible, the Chimera seemed to reach out to it with her mind, like she had done with the Vorloren super soldiers and willed it to stop. The missile suddenly halted in mid-air like it had hit an invisible shield, and then it veered off course and exploded in a section of forest out of range of her and the children. _Did I do that? What just happened? Why did the missile veer off and miss all of us?_

"Wow," the little girl, with long, dark brown hair whispered, hiding behind the older blonde headed one. Her tan tunic and skirt blended in with the other girl's outfit, making them look like one person with two heads. "You _are _the Dark Guardian." The baby was even staring at her, with large dark eyes.

The Chimera gave them all a glaring look. She was no hero; she was a demon with a soft spot for children. "I don't think so. Now let's move," she hissed at them, and they started forward once again. The transgenic felt that another missile was heading their way. This one was coming faster than the previous one. The Chimera impulsively willed it to stop, like she had the first one. She did it out of pure instinct. This missile wavered for a moment, but it kept right on coming.

"Get back in the cellar!" she shouted at the children. It was their only hope now. This rocket would hit mere meters away from the checkpoint. The flame and fire would consume everything around them, including the building. They turned around and ran back inside as fast as their little legs could carry them.

The missile was going to blow this place to bits. The Chimera had to do something. She pushed the children back inside the cellar; down there they had a chance. The door was made of some kind of strong and thick metal. It might hold the fire and explosion back. She went to close the door, but it wouldn't stay closed. It kept springing open, and it needed to be held down to offer any protection. The transgenic must have broken the catch when she yanked it open before. She cursed her stupidity. There was no time to find something heavy enough to hold it down; she would have to hold it in place herself.

The Chimera, unexpectedly, remembered then, for the first time since she had regained her mental freedom, that she was pregnant with Jonathan's child. Somehow she knew it was still alive within her. The Gen Virus had protected the tiny cells from Hister's drug, but the fire from the missile would surely kill her and the child. _Can I really sacrifice its life for the lives of these alien children whom I've serious considered abandoning? What could happen to the millions of my descendants if I die and my baby along with me? _

Her life genuinely didn't matter right now. She had done so much killing that she knew she didn't deserve to live, and she certainly didn't deserve to be a mother. But these sweet, pure, and innocent children deserved a chance to live out full and productive lives. If losing her life, and the life of her unborn child, would give them even the smallest chance to live, she was going to give it to them. The Chimera's choice was made in a matter of seconds, with no hesitation. She would die to save these children. She would defend her pack to the death, whatever the cost to herself. With that thought she did not fear dying.

The missile arrived, impacting just a few meters south of the building. The ground heaved and buckled out from under the structure, rolling in a massive wave. The trees and bushes caught on fire and were instantly devoured, aflame. Part of the building blazed as the hungry arms of the fire reached for it and grabbed at it. The Chimera heard the ceiling collapse on top of her, but she and the door to the cellar held firm. It was like they were enveloped in a bubble. Some impenetrable covering surrounded the transgenic and her precious treasure. Flying debris, roaring fire, and crumbling chunks of the building and its contents continue their mad, tumultuous reign, but the Chimera and the children were untouched.

When the worst of the missile's brutal assault subsided a bit, the human super soldier's instinctual fear lessened, and whatever concentration she had been using to shelter herself and the children slipped. The result was that the remaining forces of destruction slammed into her. Most of it came in the form of sections of the building continuing to cave in on top of her. The heavy adobe, metal, wood, and glass crushed down upon her, burying her in their rubble. The Chimera knew many of her bones were smashed to pieces, and she felt the fire lick at her feet as it found it way inside the rooms. But the children remained safe. The door held.

The Chimera's breath came slowly and very painfully. She could see the darkness closing in around her. The fire had burned and eaten at a good portion of her body. The transgenic had massive internal injuries, as well. Many vital organs were compressed or punctured, including her lungs. Her neck was mostly likely broken. She was lying face down on the door, covered with debris. She was losing consciousness. She realized she was dying. The Gen Virus couldn't keep up with all the injuries, there were just too many. She welcomed death as a final release from all her pain and all her evil deeds.

Instead of her life flashing before her eyes, she beheld the face she had so painstakingly memorized to give her strength when she truly needed it, her Jonathan's. It was his kind green eyes, his strong jaw, his beautiful sandy brown hair, and his comforting smile she pictured as she felt herself start to fade away. He was with her even in death. He had been true to his word. He had never given up on her, and he had never left her. She could let go and die in peace.

The words to the song, _Amazing Grace_, Trip had used to try and push the darkness in her soul away with suddenly came to her mind, filling her up with serenity. Somehow the spirit of the hymn had permeated her entire being. She now understood the meaning of the last to verses.

"_Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,_

_And mortal life shall cease,_

_I shall possess, within the veil,_

_A life of joy and peace._

"_The world shall soon dissolve like snow;_

_The sun refuse to shine;_

_But God, who called me here below,_

_Shall be forever mine."_

At least she had gotten one thing right. She hoped her Jonathan would be proud of her. She had finally made the decision to do something right, just because it was the right thing to do. The children would go on to enjoy the breadth of their lives and experience the richness of their potential because she had been able to help them. Then the hymn's main message came to her mind one last time:

"_Amazing grace! How sweet the sound_

_That saved a wretch like me;_

_I once was lost, but now am found;_

_Was blind, but now I see."_

The Chimera now knew what Mac had known all along. It felt damn good to do the right thing and give your life for someone else. There was no sweeter feeling in the entire universe, nothing so gratifying. She had been blind to what true happiness was, but now as she lay dying, she could see its meaning with perfect clarity. With that last parting thought, the Chimera knew no more.

TBC

**Did I just kill Mac off???? I think her sacrifice was a noble one, don't you? If you want to know what happens next, please leave a review and encourage me to go on. This chapter is important to me as a writer, so I would love to get responses from my readers. Thanks for the support. :)**


	35. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For violence and language**

**A/N: Sorry to pause for so long; lots going on in my life. This chapter moves things forward and sets up ways to start getting things resolved. I also dropped another big reveal into this chapter. The question about Mac's fate is answered as well. Hope, this chapter is worth the wait. Enjoy!!!**

**Thanks go to LadyRainbow for making me rewrite sections of this chapter for greater depth and emotional power. She rocks!!!**

**Reviews are strongly encouraged; desperately needed by the author even.**

**Chapter 34**

T'Pol could not believe how their "luck" had changed. She was now standing on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ with Chief Aster Suran and most of the Quantima palace staff in the situation room. While the commander had been scouring the Vulcan database on the Vorlorens, the security chief's name had popped up and caught her attention. She couldn't figure out why she had not made the connection before. Chief Suran fit all her criteria perfectly, and it turned out he was a Lasiterian sympathizer. It was one of the main reasons he had been demoted to the security chief at Quantima. He had once been the head of the High Monarch's Secret Service, but Romdel and Hister did not trust him. He was the one Vorloren that would have ruined all their plans for controlling the High Monarch.

"What can you tell me about your king?" T'Pol now asked of Suran. "How did Hister and Romdel seize power?"

"The High Monarch is just a young man, Commander, about thirty Earth years of age, I believe. His father, the king before him, died under very mysterious circumstances. He was only fourteen at the time he had to take over, and he was very impressionable," Suran paused as he paced back and forth for a moment in front of T'Pol. Then he went on, "I have been trying to get to the bottom of my sovereign's murder for that last sixteen years. Romdel and Hister maneuvered into top advisor spots with the gilded the youth. Once they had his ear, they stopped my investigations at very turn and cut me off from any contact with the Prince. He ascended the throne under Hister's mind control. That was when our policies against the Lasiterians took on their most sinister disposition. We had been harsh and prejudiced before, but not genocidal."

"So you think Hister and Romdel murdered the former king," T'Pol deduced, "to gain control of your empire?"

"I have no doubts about it now," Suran informed her, stopping his pacing and facing her directly. "The current High Monarch's father was ready to sue the Lasiterians for peace. Hister and Romdel had to get him out of the way, if they wanted to move their wicked plans forward."

"Did you lose all of your influence over the Prince?" T'Pol asked. "How complete was the mind control?"

Suran shook his head sadly. "Hister and Romdel wanted me out of the way, but another unusual death would have looked suspicious. They threatened me with facing life in prison or death at my own security forces' hands after a trial bringing me up on some trumped up treason charge. My other choice if I wanted to live freely to a ripe, old age was to take a demotion and be exiled to Quantima. The young man I had tutored since his birth sided with my enemies," he paused again, taking a deep breath. T'Pol leaned on the display table waiting for him to continue.

"It may seem like the cowards way out, choosing the demotion and exile, Commander, but I felt like I could at least still help my people by working behind the scenes in secret and under less scrutiny than before. I even found small ways to reach out to the Lasiterians offering to help them wherever I could, for I understood all to well what Hister and Romdel were really up to, and I could not stomach it. My conscience demanded that I take no part in massacring an entire race of my own people," his voice cracked slightly as he stopped speaking again, overcome with emotion.

T'Pol, with her typical Vulcan patience, allowed him to get himself back under control. "So you have been able to aid the Lasiterians then?" she prompted him to finish.

"Yes," he said softly, wringing his hands in front of him, "but not nearly enough. I also aid our own resistance groups when I can. As the years have passed, I've come to know the Lasiterian chief, Wolachea, and I have come to respect and appreciate the Lasiterian culture. I've even listened to many discussions dealing with their religious beliefs, and I've been converted to their belief in their Great Spirit. This will sound strange to an outsider but, I know I've felt his presence and know that he is a real and benevolent being that is trying guide the Lasiterians and all who would listen to their message to peace and happiness in life and the life to come after death. On my hardest days, my heart is comforted by the power I feel emanating from the Great Spirit. The Lasiterians are a noble people, and I am now pledged to save them from utter desolation." His face was set in grim, hard lines, showing the strength of his conviction.

"We wish to now assist you in that task, Chief Suran," T'Pol offered. "We want to help you free your beloved ruler from Hister's mind control. If the High Monarch is himself again, he could end all the bloodshed with one order, could he not?"

Chief Suran almost beamed at T'Pol so bright was his smile. "The High Monarch is a good man at heart. If he was truly in control of his own mind, he would not be doing this. His father taught him true principles, and so did I. I believe even after all this time he would still be loyal to them."

He stepped closer to T'Pol and grabbed her hand. "You and your crew are an answer to my prayers, Commander. I will gladly accept any help you have to offer," he said sincerely.

T'Pol tried not to squirm at the Vorloren's touch. Vulcans tended to not like to be touched casually. Suran's gesture was a harmless one, but it made T'Pol very uncomfortable. She did, however, understand why he'd done it; many species found comfort in such actions. Unfortunately, Vulcans did not.

Suran then presented T'Pol with several scenarios he had drawn up over the years. He had intended to use them one day, to rescue the young man he had helped groom to be the leader of the Vorlorens. All of them had lacked the man power for success, so he had tabled them. Now, however, this Vulcan woman and her human crew were providing him with the man power, and the starship that he would need to actually carry out a rescue plan. It may now truly have a chance at succeeding.

T'Pol had changed her mind. Instead of using the _Enterprise_ to help the Lasiterians on the battlefield, they would aid Chief Suran in freeing the High Monarch from Hister and Romdel's clutches. This plan had a much higher probability for accomplishment than her previous plan, and could possibly bring an end to the hostilities much more quickly. The only obstacle in their path now was the Suliban. The Vulcan was still awaiting Kajine's answer about the use of the Suliban cloaking technology. Instead of using it to sneak _Enterprise_ past the entire Vorloren Space Command, now T'Pol wanted to use it to sneak _Enterprise_ into orbit around Vorlora Prime, where the High Monarch was being held and controlled.

Chief Suran had a few friends still in high government positions willing to take on Hister and Romdel with him. From them, he had been able to obtain all the security measures to get in and out of the High Monarch's residence. Suran's problem had been finding a way to get to the planet undetected and how to get in and out quickly. With a cloaked starship and its transporter, plus a team of MACOs, he could now pull off a real rescue. Doctor Phlox was already working on an antidote to the mind controlling drug, but without an actual sample of the drug, it was slow going. Suran had provided Phlox with enough data on Vorloren physiology to be useful, but there still much research to be done.

"I can't express my appreciation enough, Commander," Chief Suran told T'Pol for about the tenth time. "You are willing to risk yourself and your starship to help us. I don't know if we deserve your help, after all we have put your crew through, especially Captain Archer and Commander Tucker, but we are surely thankful for it."

T'Pol offered a small nod of acceptance of Suran's gratitude, but said, "It is not necessary to thank us, helping your people end their century's old civil war is the only logical thing to do. And besides, we have not really helped you yet."

"It is the offer that fills our hearts with hope, Commander," Manso said. He had been, at one time, Suran's second-in-command in the Vorloren Secret Service; now he was the Quantima palace butler. "It is your willingness that we are grateful for."

"The Suliban are hailing us, Commander," Ensign Jacobs interrupted them as they were assembled in around the data display table at the back of the bridge.

"On screen, Ensign," T'Pol ordered and moved forward, toward the bridge's viewing screen. Kajine's neon-green, bumpy, bald visage appeared moments later. "Have you been able to discuss our request with Silik?" T'Pol spoke immediately. Her impatience bothered her. Another slip in her emotions was an unpleasant experience. She wondered if with all the stress and lack of meditation that her control over her emotions was slipping, or if she was getting some kind of bleed through from Trip because of their bond. Maybe Trip's emotions were affecting hers.

"Unfortunately, we are out of communication with our commander," Kajine said simply.

T'Pol forced her irritation and anxiety away, attempting to compartmentalize them like any good Vulcan could. She took at deep breath and said in a calm voice that belayed nothing of her inner turmoil, "And what does that mean?"

"It means that we can't get in contact with him to ask his permission to let you borrow our technology," Kajine told T'Pol. T'Pol repressed her disappointment. She felt an overpowering urge to give into it, but managed to put her Vulcan training good use. "However, I have called all of his sub-commanders together and discussed your proposal with them," the female Suliban continued. "They all agreed that your request was sensible and worth a try. We will help you install one of our cloaking devices aboard your ship, as long as you allow my men to keep an eye on it while you are using it. I would also ask that the three men that are your guests be allowed to return to us. Your people have joined the Lasiterians and are no longer subject to being our guests."

It took very Vulcan bit of her to contain the wild swing of emotion from despair to delight at Kajine's words. It had to be Trip's influence; if it was, that would mean he was still alive. With absolutely no emotional expression T'Pol replied, "We will make arrangements to transfer your men back to your ship and to prepare our systems to accept your cloaking technology. And we have made an alteration in our plans, but I think you will find the alterations much more acceptable than what I outline for you earlier."

"I had a feeling you might. We were monitoring your transportation of the Quantima palace staff up to your ship," Kajine responded. "We will be ready in a few minutes. And T'Pol, I am trusting your Vulcan honesty, so do not make me sorry that I took this action."

T'Pol looked the Suliban woman square in the eye. "You have my word, as a Vulcan, that you will not regret your decision to help us in our time of need."

* * *

Reed grabbed Wolachea as he left the Lasiterian command center and asked if he could accompany the war chief out onto the battlefield. "Wolachea, I've located Trip's biosignature among a group of Vorlorens not far from here, and I wanted to go and rescue him," Malcolm requested.

"That is not a wise action," Wolachea had started to refuse, but then realized he, himself, would do anything to save on of his own. Could it be true for the humans as well?

"It doesn't matter if is 'wise' or not," Malcolm argued. "I'm not leaving my friend and colleague in enemy hands. We don't leave any of our people behind, sir."

"Is one man's life worth your own?" Wolachea questioned, curious as to the human's answer.

"Absolutely," Malcolm said with conviction. "I would willing give my life to save anyone of my crew, even more so for Commander Tucker. He would do the same for me."

After that Wolachea couldn't bring himself to tell the human no. Besides, this human had given some very good battle strategy and advice to his colonels who were out in the thick of things. Most of them were working and keeping a significant number of his people alive. He owed the human, and having him fight along side the Lasiterians would also be a plus.

It didn't take long to gather a number of small squads of Lasiterians to go after the Vorloren mobile command center where Trip was being held. Eliminating the centers would disrupt the Vorlorens tactical setup and buy the Lasiterians some more time. Reed and Wolachea fought along side one another, trying to conquer their enemy and save lives. Reed organized the squads to come in from all directions, flanking and surrounding the Vorloren mobile command center. They hit hard and fast, so that the Vorlorens didn't know what hit them. Wolachea was glad to have this human on his side; he was loyal and fearsome, which was a good combination.

Once the mobile command center was secured, they found Trip and released him. That was when the bombardment of rocket missiles had begun. As the Lasiterians and humans retreated from the missile fire, Trip, who was now armed and fighting too, caught sight of the human super soldier not a long distance off at the Lasiterian checkpoint station. He broke away from his group and headed towards her position. He felt an uncontrollable impulse to rush to her aid because something told him she was in trouble. That was when the projectile had smashed into the ground, right where Mac and, to Trip's surprise, three Lasiterian children were located.

He watched in horror as he observed Mac run back inside the little building with the three Lasiterian children in tow, and as one of the projectiles from a Vorloren rocket launcher hit only a few meters away. The crater that the impact created was enormous, the ground blackened and melted. The land seemed to ripple and whip outward from the crater. The explosion was deafening as it roared like a lion; its boom loud enough to echo throughout the canyon. The bright, orange fireball it created was all-consuming, flaming hungrily upward and outward. The checkpoint station seemed to be obliterated, blown apart under the assault of the projectile. Debris flew in all directions, and thick, black smoke enveloped the area, bellowing up into the sky.

As the small building was engulfed in flame and fiery death, Trip screamed out, "Oh God, Mac, no!"

Malcolm Reed and Wolachea also watched the scene with equal terror and horror etched on their faces. They had hurried after Trip, concerned for his safety and sanity. They too witnessed what happened to the transgenic and the Lasiterian children. Trip, not heeding the calls from Reed and Wolachea, continued towards the now destroyed and flaming mess that was once a building. A number of Lasiterian soldiers descended upon the scene armed with some kind of fire retardant spray. They worked furiously to douse the flames and cool the debris. Trip stopped short of the roaring flames, waiting of them to be put out. Reed and Wolachea were finally able to catch up to him.

"That was really stupid, Commander," Malcolm snapped at him the instant he was standing at Trip's side.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," Trip replied soberly. "I couldn't help it. You saw what Mac did? She was in there when that rocket - - -," he couldn't finish his statement, his voice broken off in a choked sob. There was no way Mac could have survived that. _What in the hell had she been thinking? _He fell to his knees suddenly unable to stand. Reed caught him before he fully hit the ground.

"I know, Trip, I know," was all he could think of to say in response to his friend's grief.

The Lasiterian soldiers made quick work of the flames, putting them out in record time. Not much of the building was left, only the northwest wall was partially standing. Everything else was a pile of rubble, bent and twisted metal, chunks of adobe, shards of glass littered the ground, and charred pieces of wood covered the area. As the smoke and flames died away, Trip saw a body, lying face down on the floor of the back part of the building. He knew it was Mac. He was back on his feet in an instant, ripped himself from Malcolm's grip, and rushed to her, the adrenaline coursing through his system.

When he reached the body, his eyes confirmed that it was Mac, or what was left of her. She was lying on top of something, covering with it her body, almost as if she were protecting it. A closer look revealed a large metal door. It was badly singed, black and a little melted with a bubbled surface, but it looked intact. Trip put two and two together: Mac had stuffed the children behind it and sacrificed herself to save them. Trip heard himself make some unintelligible noise and suddenly his vision blurred as a cascade of tears spilled down his face.

Malcolm had followed him down to the body and gasped as he, too, realized what had transpired. The monster he had so feared was dead. She had died saving the life of some alien children. Tears threatened to overtake him just as they had Trip. Wolachea was next to join the two humans down by the body. Shock and awe were washing over him. The human super soldier had been on a rampage against his men, slaughtering them in great numbers, but yet she had let herself be killed to save some of his people's children. It didn't make any sense. He was very grateful, but also very confused.

Trip unconsciously moved forward and began clearing the debris and rubble off of Mac, crying silently the whole time. Reed went and assisted him. Once her body was free of the crumbled mass of building, Trip saw the real extent of the damage done to her. Over half of her body was blackened and blistered from hungry flames. Her body was broken, her arms and legs were set at odd angles, and she looked squashed. He couldn't stop himself from taking her pulverized body into his arms, cuddling her to him, and then rocking back and forth with her.

As he turned her over, he saw that her face was a little dirty, but mostly unmarked. Her beauty was breathtaking and surreal. He marveled at the peaceful look she had on her face, like she was just taking a nap. Her sensuous hair had come loose out of the tight ponytail holder and was thrown wildly around her head and neck. Trip was vaguely aware of Wolachea and some of the other Lasiterian soldiers pulling at the door, cutting through it to open it up. After a short time they got it to open and found three very frightened, but very alive, young Lasiterian children. Mac _had_ saved them.

Trip wept with great, shaking sobs; his whole body was racked with them. He rocked Mac and himself back and forth with more urgency. The pain and heartache could be heard in the cries that slipped from his throat. Malcolm tried to comfort the chief engineer, putting an arm around Trip and just sitting with him as he let all his grief pour out of him. Mac had tried to warn him, tell him this was coming. She had had a feeling she wouldn't survive the battle. She had been right, but she had done something totally selfless to cause it to happen. She had given her life for strangers, just as she had been willing to give her life for him.

The Lasiterians gave the humans the space they needed. No one bothered them or tried to interfere with their grieving. "I still say she looks like Snow White, not Sleeping Beauty," Malcolm tried a little humor to ease Trip's pain.

The effort was not lost on the commander. "Maybe you're right, Mal. Maybe you're right," Trip said with a tremulous voice. Mac's skin was very pale now, and she did look like a picturesque and lovely Snow White. "I can't believe she did it, Mal."

"She just did what she thought was right," Reed said softly. "She died the most honorable death a person can die; giving her life for others."

Trip didn't answer. He knew Malcolm was right, but it was so unfair. The commander wondered what had finally pushed Mac to sacrifice herself. _How did she overcome Hister's mind control? How did she beat his wonder drug? _Another fit of tears overcame him again. His anguish slipped from his mouth in almost a wail. She couldn't be gone. He would not accept this. As his grief raged through him anew, a tiny hand pulled at his shirt sleeve. Trip looked up to see a cute, adorable, little Lasiterian girl with long, dark hair standing soberly at his side. Her dark blue eyes were very wide and like a puppy dog.

"Don't worry, Mister," she told Trip gently, "the Dark Guardian can't die."

Trip just stared at her. This sweet, tiny thing thought Mac was some magical creature that couldn't die. Oh, how he wished that was true! She was extraordinary, but she was still human, still mortal. When Trip didn't say anything in return, the little girl hugged him, and then ran back to Wolachea. He couldn't help but smile at the simple faith of children. They always saw the glass as half full. They were untainted by the harshness of life, and their innocence and naiveté was so pure and trusting. No wonder Mac had save them, they could melt the coldest heart in the dead of winter. Trip saw the infant and instantly knew what had gotten hold of Mac's heart, the baby. She must have looked into its angelic face and all that was good in her surfaced. It was a strangely comforting thought to Trip.

He turned back to Mac and started. It felt like her body had shifted in his arms. Then he felt it again. He watched in fascination as the bones in her left shoulder literally put themselves back together and back into the right place. The bruising around the break began to fade as well. Her neck, which he knew had been crushed, was suddenly straight and firm again. The bones in her hands knitted back together, no longer bent at weird angles. Her legs also looked to be healing. Snapping and popping sounds accompanied the bone movement. The charred flesh and blistered skin reformed itself, becoming smooth and healthy once again.

"Bloody hell!" Trip heard Malcolm exclaim as he realized what was happening. "It isn't possible, is it?"

"I don't know," Trip whispered, not daring to hope. The Gen Virus could still working in her system, even though she was dead. It may have had the ability to go on without a host, or it could have been desperately trying to live on, by feebly attempting to put Mac's broken body back together in hopes that it could continue to live, although she was dead.

In a matter of mere minutes, Mac's body looked as if nothing had ever burned it or fallen on it and crushed it. The only evidence of her ordeal was the shredded condition of her Vorloren super soldier uniform. Wolachea, hearing the snapping and popping sounds drifted closer, watching the miracle take place in front of him. Trip almost jumped out of his skin when he heard and felt Mac take a breath. He watched in excitement as her chest rose and fell with the intake of oxygen and exhale of carbon dioxide.

"She's breathin', Malcolm, she's breathin'!" Trip shouted.

"I can see that," Reed returned, not believing what his eyes were telling him.

"Mac, sweetheart, can you hear me?" Trip spoke with passion and nervousness.

Mac seemed to stir at the sound of his voice directed at her. He tried again. "Mac, it's Trip. Come on darlin'. Come back to me." Her eyes fluttered and finally opened. Luscious, dark brown, deep chocolate eyes blinked and tried to focus on Trip. She moaned softly.

Trip gently moved her in his arms, pulling her closer to him, cuddling her for all she was worth. "Oh, Mac, you're alive! You're alive!" He repeated the words several more times.

"Trip?" she said in barely a whisper.

"Ya, sweetheart, it's me," Trip was almost giddy now. "Malcolm's here too."

The transgenic snuggled into the warmth of his body. She had been so cold, and she ached all over. _What happened to me? Why is Trip acting so strangely?_ "What's going on, Trip?" she managed to ask. Her throat was dry and it hurt to talk.

"Can we get some water over here please?!" Reed yelled towards the Lasiterians standing dumbstruck around them. Wolachea quickly signaled to one of his men to do as Malcolm asked. He could not believe what he was seeing. She really was the woman from the Dark Guardian Prophecy. She was coming back from the dead. She was the one who would save his people.

"Oh, Mac, oh Mac," Trip cooed to her as her stroked her hair. "We thought you were dead. You saved some kids from a Vorloren missile attack," he explained to her.

The genetically engineered woman just looked at him. Her voice failed her. _Why can't I remember what happened? _

"It's okay, Mac. Just rest and relax. I'll tell ya everthin' when you've recovered more." He hugged her to him again, his relief palpable to all around him. The soldier handed Reed the water, and he helped Trip get Mac to sip from it. The cool water refreshed and soothed her parched throat. She allowed Trip to cuddle her because she felt safe and secure in his arms. She rested herself against him, letting him stroke her hair and face, basking in his soft touch.

Out of the blue she sat bolt upright, and then was on her feet. Mac swayed and Trip was instantly by her side, reaching out to support her and hold her to keep her from falling down. Something bad was out in the woods surrounding them. Something that intended to harm them, especially the one named Wolachea. The transgenic had not smelled or heard the approach of the intruder, but somehow she had sensed his presence. She could almost see him in her mind and track his thoughts. He was lining up the sights of a sniper rifle on Wolachea, and Mac was determined to stop it.

Without even realizing fully what she was doing, she instinctively sought out the enemy in her mind. She located him, about two hundred meters away, hidden in dense brush. He was taking aim at the Lasiterian, ready to pull the trigger, but the transgenic wasn't about to let that happen. She wanted to grab him by the throat and squeeze his windpipe and compress it into nothingness. Mac pictured his death in her mind, vividly and as realistically as possible.

Suddenly, in the brush up ahead of them there was a thrashing of movement. The others with her turned and watched as a Vorloren super soldier stumbled out of the bushes, making weird gurgling noises and clutching at his throat. Silver blood oozed out of his mouth, his sniper rifle dropped to the ground, and was kicked away from him as he fought to breathe. He struggled for a few more seconds, and then they all heard the crack of his neck breaking. He fell to the ground, dead.

Mac gasped as pain flooded into her brain. She cried out, grabbing her head with both hands, sliding down to her knees. The pain was excruciating and blinded her. She moaned and tears came her eyes. "It hurts, Trip. It hurts," she grounded out between clenched teeth.

"What is goin' on, Mac?" Trip had her back in his arms now, trying to ease her suffering. "What's happenin' to you?"

"I don't know," she hissed, trying to take deep breathes. "My head feels like it has a rod stabbing through it. It hurts so bad." She cried out again and went limp in Trip's arms.

"What in the bloody hell just happened?" Reed demanded of everyone and no one at the same time.

Wolachea looked at the human super soldier, and then at the dead Vorloren super soldier and back again. It was another sign. This "Mac" was truly the Dark Guardian. It appeared that she had killed her enemy with just a thought. The medicine man had been right. That Vorloren super soldier had been lying in wait to shoot he or one of his men. The human transgenic had saved them, and stopped the Vorloren before he could complete his mission. Who knew how many more there would be out here?

"We need to take cover. It is not safe out in the open. There are some caves not far from here where we can take shelter until we can figure out what is going on with your friend," he spoke with quiet authority. His men obeyed speedily and orderly. The Lasiterian chief's words made sense to Trip and Reed too. Trip picked Mac up and cradle carried her unconscious form, following swiftly behind the Lasiterians and his crewmate.

* * *

Silik didn't know what to do with Captain Jonathan Archer. After his last attempt to reach McKenna, Archer had slid back into his primal, savage state again. Apparently, the Captain had tapped into the Chimera and helped her to reestablish control of her own mind, and then he'd gotten cut off. Someone had disabled the cybernetic implants' abilities to communicate with each other. Hister was having what humans would call a "hissy fit". All of his grand schemes were going down the drain. It was this mad dash to try and put his designs back on track that was distracting him from Archer's condition.

The Suliban commander was now thinking that maybe Ashoria's idea of bringing the Chimera back to consciousness may not have been such a wise one. The Captain and the human super soldier were so tightly connected now that any change in her state of mind or condition eventually radiated out of her and into him. The Chimera's awakening had seriously called forth the primitive drives with in Archer. He'd become a raving beast at being separate from his mate so abruptly. Ashoria had acted promptly with the hypospray and knocked the Captain out before any of the Vorlorens noticed his change in attitude. She had also wisely removed the neuro implant from his right temple. It wouldn't do to have Archer seen with it attached to his head.

But what where they going to do now? The sedative would only last a short time. When Archer regained consciousness, it might not be pretty. Silik had been watching Hister closely now and something about the alien bothered the Suliban. He couldn't give a name to his misgivings, but something was not right about the Vorloren general. It was a problem Silik was determined to solve. He would continue to observe Hister carefully, if Archer's behavior permitted it.

Hister was pacing the command deck of the battleship's bridge. Romdel was hastily trying to work on overcoming whatever signal was jamming the implants from communicating with each other. Watching the Vorloren super soldiers lose their cohesion and unity filled Silik with glee. They still fought, but not with the same strength and power as before. He had hated that his benefactor had aided the Vorlorens in their creation, but at least McKenna was no longer leading them. It was nice to know that something was going right. Silik thought that fact alone had Hister really pissed off. He had lost his favorite toy, and it infuriated him. Somehow, whoever was tracking her visually for Hister had lost her. Without the cybernetic implants, Hister couldn't use his to find her or track her either. She had vanished from their sight.

Archer snapped awake beside Silik. It was way too early for him to come out of the sedative. Instead of attacking, like Silik thought the Captain would, he doubled up as if he were in pain, pulling his knees into his chest. "She's dying," he unexpectedly cried out. "Oh my God, she's dying! No, Mac! Somebody help her!" His voice was a hysterical yell now. Ashoria tried to come to his aid, to silence him, but it was too late. Hister and Romdel had both heard his outcry.

"What?" Hister demanded as he stormed off the command deck and down to where Archer was lying on the floor of the bridge. "What did he say?"

Silik pretended to be the Vorloren soldier he was impersonating. "I am not sure, General," he lied.

Archer let out a woeful moan and a piercing cry. "She's dying! Please, somebody help her! She's in terrible pain!"

"He must be talking about the transgenic," Romdel deduced, still up on the command deck. "She must be in trouble."

Solin hissed his fury, his Vorloren guise almost broken. He recovered quickly, but not before Ashoria realized he wasn't what he appeared to be. Silik was too busy to notice, trying to calm Archer down. So much for his watchful eye. "How could she be dying? She is indestructible."

"Apparently not, brother," Romdel said with equal anger. He, however, did not hiss as Hister had.

Hister grabbed Archer by the collar of his shirt and wrenched him upwards until his face was inches from the fake Vorloren general's. "What is happening to her? Tell me what you see?"

"See?" the Captain spat back. "I can't see anything. I can only feel what my mate feels. I can feel her dying. She feels like she is on fire, and she can't breathe. She feels like she is being buried alive."

"No!" Hister roared, more as a Gorn, than a Vorloren. He threw Archer to the floor with fury. "I will not accept defeat so easily. The Lasiterians are almost annihilated. I will not allow all my carefully laid out plans to be ruined this way!" He turned to Romdel. "I think it is time to test our latest weapon. Prepare the Atomizer for deployment. We need a squad of soldiers to get that deflector shield down, now."

Romdel looked at who he thought was his older, half brother with dubious shock, which quickly turned to an animated wonder. "You seriously want to use it in actual battle? You said it wasn't ready yet, that you hadn't worked out how to control its power output."

"What better way to solve the problem than with a genuine field test?" Hister replied. "It is the only sure way to be rid of all the Lasiterians. The Atomizer with destroy all life on that miserable planet down there. It will take all living matter apart at the atomic level. It will ensure our victory."

Romdel was beginning to get caught up in Hister's mania. "And then we will be free of the plague that has rotted and diseased our people for so long," he said, and he then realized a down side to this new idea. "I only regret that my grand super soldier army will be wasted. All that hard work, all the long hours of toil and effort, for nothing."

"Do not fear, brother," Hister consoled him. "We now have the means to build a better, stronger, and more powerful super soldier army, thanks to the human transgenic. We have enough samples of live tissue and blood from her to complete our work. We will learn from our mistakes and progress forward. I even got what you could not from her."

Romdel couldn't believe what Hister was telling him. How much had his beloved brother done behind his back? "What did you get from her?" Romdel asked, having a very good idea what the answer would be.

"A plethora of her eggs, my dear brother," Hister announced proudly. "With her pure DNA we can make any kind of monster we want."

Archer's savage exploded with rage at the though of Mac being violated that way. He sprang at Hister full of fury and madness. Ashoria not wanting the Captain to get himself killed and needing Hister to reveal his super weapon, shot Archer with a particle weapon. She knew that if Hister was what she thought he was, Archer would not stand a chance against him. The charge was stronger than a norm stun, but not strong enough to kill the Captain. She hated doing it, hurting him, but she had no choice. The phased energy beam hit Archer square in the middle of his back. Instantly his spinal cord, nervous system, and brain stem were disrupted enough to knock him out cold, sending him sprawling into a heap on the floor.

Hister took in Ashoria and the weapon with first surprise and then delight. "Well done, my dear. It seems you are much more prepared than most of the soldiers in this room."

Ashoria quickly fell in to her role as Rasha, the loyal servant of the Vorloren Empire. "You would expect nothing less, General. Dr. Goerner entrusted me with your safety and the safety of the crew. The human was my responsibility to watch. I couldn't let the doctor, or you, down. So I prepared for the worst, sir."

"It is because of people like you, that our Empire is so stalwart and resilient," Hister praised this beautiful and cunning Vorloren woman. "I owe you much gratitude, and I assure you that your reward with be great." The Gorn, still playing the part of Hister, turned to Silik and the other soldiers on the bridge. "Get that creature off my bridge. Throw it in the brig. When I have time to enjoy its torturous death, I will have it executed. Now get it out of here!"

Silik, along with half a dozen other Vorloren soldiers scrambled to do as their General ordered. Ashoria moved to go with them. Hister stopped her. "You don't need to go with them, my dear. You have earned the right to sit on this bridge and watch the future change before your eyes."

"You are too kind, General Hister," Ashoria told him humbly. "But I want to make sure Captain Archer doesn't pose any threat to you or you're the other Vorlorens on this ship. Once I am certain he is detained properly, I will return and take my place by your side. If that is your wish," she added to seem submissive. She really thought his turn of phrase was rather ironic. He had no idea who she really was. Then again, neither did Silik.

Hister smiled at her sense of duty. "Excellent answer, Rasha, excellent answer. It is my wish that you be here on the bridge when we finally defeat our long time enemy." With that said, he dismissed her and the others to take Archer to his cell.

The Suliban commander was extremely grateful for Ashoria's quick thinking. She was turning out to be a lot more capable of accomplishing their mission than he had originally given her credit for. The young Suliban had not been his first choice for a partner, but she was the only one with enough medical background to be believable as an assistant to Dr. Goerner. It appeared she had many other hidden talents that he himself could benefit from. He would have to promote her once this was all over. Provided that they could salvage the mess that the timeline had become.

McKenna could not be dead. If she were truly dead, then that meant his benefactor would never be born. If his mysterious commander from the future never existed, then he would never ally himself with the Suliban. Silik and his people would lose all their genetic enhancements and all they had worked so hard to build. There had to be a way to fix all of this. He would make it right. He would save his benefactor and reap a great reward. If he didn't, his life would be over. That was something he could not accept.

Once they reached the brig, the Vorlorens tossed Archer's unconscious body into a small five by six cell and slammed the door. It was cold, sterile, and all black metal with small window to view the prisoner through, but no other light. An old, plain-looking mat and blanket sat on the floor, and a tiny toilet and sink were located in the very back right hand corner. Silik volunteered to watch the prisoner along with Rasha. The others would be backups stationed just outside the entrance to the brig. After the Vorloren soldiers had taken their posts, out of earshot, Silik turned to Ashoria, and signaled her to disable the security cameras. She complied by feeding them a false reading that would continuously be looped back. The Vorlorens would be none the wiser.

"That was a nice play back there," he told her honestly when he knew if was safe to talk. "If you hadn't stopped Jon, things could have really taken a turn for the worse. What do you think our next move should be?" he asked, sincerely wanting her opinion.

Ashoria turned her white Vorloren eyes to gaze at Silik. She raised her particle weapon and fired it at him, point blank. Again, she set it to high stun, for she was not a killer. Silik was her enemy, but she would not kill him. He crumpled at her feet. "We don't have a next move, Silik you sly, little Suliban. But I do." She took his plasma rifle and sheathed knife. Then she pulled his limp body to another cell, slid him inside, and locked the door on him.

When she was finished, she pushed a few controls on her hidden belt, and she changed. Ashoria no longer looked like a Vorloren female, but she didn't look like a Suliban either. No, this girl was mostly human, with long, sandy brown hair pulled back in a braided bun, and she possessed hazel-green eyes. She had a small, slightly rounded and slightly pointed nose. Her jaw line was strong and oval-shaped, with mildly high cheekbones. She was dressed in a black jump suit, typical for of her kind to travel around time in.

It felt good to be herself again, even if it would only be for a short time. It had been a strain on her body to be disguised as an alien who was much taller than herself. She looked at Archer and smiled. He was as handsome as any of the pictures she had seen of him. She couldn't believe she was here. She would get to talk to and interact with a living legend, and it filled her with a small amount of trepidation. _What if he's pissed at me? What if he refuses to help me?_ He was a very stubborn person, but she could be just the same. Excitement and anticipation were winning over her nervousness. She was going to get to met "the" Captain Jonathan Archer. Someone who would one day help bring the United Federation of Planets into existence, be one of its key founders, if not the very key one. He would later become one of its president and an admiral to boot.

She took out some potent smelling salts from a secret pocket in her jumpsuit's left leg. She applied them right under Archer's nose and gently stuffed them up into his nostrils. It took quite a few minutes for them to force the Captain's poor abused nervous system to fire up once again and respond to the strong, odorous smell. He finally stirred, his mind waking back up, and his senses coming back on line. He jumped at her touch and frantically tired to get up and away from her.

"Easy, Jonny, easy," she spoke very softly, and very slowly, like a she would to a small child. She reached for him and gently settled his head in her lap. "I'm a friend. I'm here to help you. Just relax and let your body come back to reality."

Her voice sounded familiar. It was like hearing his mother, Sally, talk to him. It tranquilized him. He felt peaceful, safe, and restful as she spoke, stroking his face and running her hands through his hair. He hadn't been called Jonny for years. It had a nice ring to it coming from her lips. "That's better," she whispered to him. "I'm sorry I had to stun you like that, but I couldn't let you get yourself killed."

Archer's mind finally found its focus, as did his eyes. They glanced up into the face of someone who was reminded him of a cross between Mac and his mother in one respect. In another, she looked like she could be his kid sister, but he was an only child. And more importantly she appeared very, very human. _Am I dreaming? Who is she? Why do I feel like I can implicitly trust her? _

"Who are you?" he asked, finding the power to speak.

"You promise you won't get mad at me, if I tell you the truth?" she said hesitantly, turning skittish under his probing gaze.

The question got his attention. _How could I get mad at a sweet, pretty, little girl like this? _She was exceptionally young, maybe eighteen at the most. "I promise," he answered. "Why would I get mad at you?"

"Because Daniels sent me to keep an eye on you, and you don't like Daniels very much. Not to mention I shot you with a phase pistol," she told him, looking down and away from his hazel-green eyes. She was waiting for the fit of rage to come at her revelation. Instead, Archer sat up abruptly and almost made himself pass out again. The petite, young woman caught him and eased him back into her lap. "You can't make any quick, jerking movements like that. Your body is still recovering from being shocked into unconsciousness. Please, just lie back and let things settle."

"You're a temporal agent? Why did you shoot me?" he asked with disbelief in his voice as soon as the dizzy spell was over.

"Yup," she replied. "That I am. I phased you to keep you from going after Hister. It was a battle you couldn't win. Hister is much more than he appears."

"And Daniels sent you to watch out for us?" he questioned her.

"Didn't I just say that, Jonny," she couldn't help but tease him now that it was obvious he was too surprised to be mad. She liked being one up on him. She knew it wasn't an experience most people were able to have around such a man as him.

"Who are you? I mean do you have a name?" He knew it sounded dumb the minute he asked, but he couldn't help it as the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Yes, I have a name," she smiled at him now, and Archer thought he saw his mother's lovely smile reflected in it. It was a strange sensation. "Roberts."

"Roberts?" he repeated confused.

"Roberts," she told him again.

"Is that a first or a last name?" he continued to question her. He also tried to shift into a position to scrutinize her more fully. The room spun again and the pretty, youthful temporal agent had to steady him once more. His head now rested on one of her folded knees, and he could look up at her from a better angle.

"Do you always listen this well to what people, who're trying to help you, ask you to do?" she huffed at him.

Archer couldn't help but smile at her mild frustration with him. "Dr. Phlox and T'Pol would probably tell you that I don't tend to do as I am told very well, but you deflected my question."

"Does it really matter?" she returned, again looking uncomfortably away from his intense stare.

"To me it does," he said quietly. "Daniels clearly sent you to be my contact, our contact," he corrected, the "I" sounded a little too self-centered, "because he knew I wouldn't take out my anger towards him on someone like you. And he also evidently sent you here because he knew you'd be able to relate to me. You called me Jonny. Only people very close to me ever call me that, meaning you must have some connection to me or someone I know. So, I don't want to be so formal with you. Daniels is fine as just Daniels, but something tells me that calling you Roberts is just too impersonal. Tell me your first name," the last was said as almost a plea. Oh, if he only knew how related they were, but she couldn't say a word about that to him.

"It's Amy. And let's just say my people are very familiar with you and your history, Jon," she found herself saying despite knowing that it wasn't a good idea.

"Amy," he repeated to himself. "That suits you much better than Roberts. I'm glad you are here, Amy. For once I am relieved that someone from your time is here to help. Where did you come from? Have you been here this whole time?"

The temporal agent met his eyes again. "Remember a certain Suliban agent pretending to be Dr. Goerner's assistant?" At his nod, she continued, "That was, uh, me," she confessed.

"You were hiding among the Suliban?" the Captain was totally taken aback by her admission. "We thought for sure that you'd hid among my crew."

"Yeah, we, ah, kinda figured you would," she said sheepishly, "that's why I was sent among the Suliban. I could watch and not risk you finding out about me. I had a better chance of getting into a position to embed myself among the Vorlorens as well. Daniels really didn't want to upset you by sticking his noise in your business, so he found another way." She took on an almost irritated tone next. "He really took your words to heart you know. He really admires you, and so he vowed he wouldn't interfere directly with your or your crew's lives again. Daniels was genuinely hurt by your righteous indignation, Captain Archer," her manner briefly turning more formal as she spoke. "He hasn't been the same since."

Again, Archer was struck with guilt at how he had treated Daniels. He hadn't meant to berate the temporal agent so harshly, but his constant interference had driven the Captain nuts. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to him," Archer told her, "but not for the reasons behind it. He used me and my crew one too many times for his own purposes, without any consideration for how it would affect us. There are better ways to ask for my help." He tried to sit up again. This time the room didn't spin; everything stayed in place. Amy still supported him, an arm around his waist, but he was now sitting upright. She had a great steadying effect on him, both in body and in spirit, a lot like someone else he knew.

He came to the understanding that he was acting rational and logical again. The savage no longer had control of him. He was his regular self. How was that possible, unless…..? The horrible memory of Mac's terrible pain and her unexpected feelings of dying came back to him then. "Mac's dead! Oh God, Amy, Mac's dead!" he cried out to his comforter. "That can't happen! It can't!" He grabbed the young woman's shoulders and shook her in his grief. Then he crumbled in front of her, torn apart inside by the realization that the woman her loved more than life itself was dead, and he had failed to save her.

Amy calmly and slowly removed Archer's hands and arms from her shoulders and slid them through her own arms, to embrace him in a tender hug. She laid his head on her shoulder and held him, rocked him, and rubbed his back in soothing circles. "It's all right, Jonny. It's all right," her voice had a small quality of Mac's in it now. It washed over him in a cool wave, and it staved off the panic. "I can tell you for a certainty, that your beloved Mac is not dead. She is very much alive."

TBC

**Please push that special little button down there and tell me what you think. It would really make me happy. :)**


	36. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For language**

**A/N: After I reread this chapter to get it ready to post, I was floored by how prophetic or timely my own words would be to myself. I think I needed to read this again to help me through the curve balls life has decided to throw at me lately. I originally wrote this chapter a long time ago. Since then my father has passed away from cancer. It is funny I wrote what I wrote, not knowing how comforting my own words would be later. The heart of this chapter deals with many of the same things that my dad would probably say to me when I get down on myself, advice that would come out of his mouth. To me there is nothing more awesome than a positive father/daughter relationship. My dad was, and is still, my hero, my rock, so I'm going to dedicate this chapter to him and his memory. This one's for you Dad!! Love ya.**

**Thanks go to LadyRainbow for being my faithful beta reader. Her time and effort is really appreciated. There will be five more chapters, and then this story will be complete. It does have an ending and a conclusion; I promise. This chapter ended up being a long one, so enjoy.**

**Chapter 35**

Wolachea led them into a cave system, and Trip marveled at the inside of it. The cave system had not been made by nature; careful engineering and strategic design had created the wonder before him. The system must have stretched for hundreds of kilometers in each direction, carved right out of the inside of the canyon. Some highly advanced rock cutting tools must have been employed to fashion such smooth and even surfaces. Trip knew only a little bit about geology, but the mineral that composed the layers of rock he was looking at, had to be incredibly strong and dense. Whatever had sliced through it to make the tunnels must have been exceedingly crafted to do such precision work. The walls were a multitude of colors, from black to gray, from brown to beige, with purple and green mixed in throughout the various layers or strata.

The group of Lasiterians and humans were in an antechamber at the end of a long tunnel that turned and headed back northwest, towards the main Lasiterian settlement within the canyon. The ceiling was high and vaulted, lessening the feeling of being deep under the ground. The Lasiterian soldiers had mini lights attached to their wrists, similar to the idea of a flashlight, to guide them through the dark pathways. When they reached this particular antechamber Wolachea went to the back and uncovered a hidden panel. Inside were what looked like ration packs, water containers, sleeping gear, heaters, and some kind of portable light source. The light sources were not like any lantern Trip had ever seen. They were small, round disks, but they had an almost biological look to them. The Lasiterian chief tapped each one twice, and they lit up with brilliant, white light.

The inside of the cave became as bright as daylight, at high noon. It relieved Trip immensely to be out of the dark. It was nice and cool in the tunnel, however, and that was a welcome change from the hot sun outside. The chief engineer had carried Mac the whole way because she was still out cold. It was scaring Trip to no end, but he could see her breathing and had felt a strong and steady pulse in her neck. Malcolm had offered to take her for a little while to give Trip a break, but the commander had obstinately refused to let go of Mac. He wasn't going to let her out of his care until he knew what the hell was going on with her.

Now that they had stopped to rest and regroup, he sat down and adjusted Mac so that she was sitting in front of him and leaned her delicate looking form into his. Her head came to rest just right on his right shoulder, as he supported her unconscious body with his own. Her Vorloren uniform was in tatters, burned and ripped in several places. The transgenic would soon need a change of clothing. Trip would have to ask Wolachea if there was any spare clothing in the cash of supplies he had opened a few minutes earlier. Wolachea reminded the commander of a scholar or librarian, but he fought like a lion. There was nothing timid or weak about him.

As the group situated itself, Reed sat next to Trip and leaned back against the cool, cave wall, closing his eyes for a moment. He sighed heavily. Fatigue and weariness were starting to catch up with the lieutenant. He reopened his eyes and stared at Mac saying, "It was almost like watching a phoenix rise from its ashes, watching her come back to life. How is it possible, Commander?"

"Ya got me, Lieutenant," Trip said with a lazy smile. "That Gen Virus must be somethin' else. It won't let her die."

"Her design and those responsible for it, take the Eugenics Wars to a whole new level," Reed said still staring at Mac. "It makes one wonder what else scientists of that time era were up to. It's a scary thought."

Trip couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's musings. Leave it to Malcolm to dwell on the pessimistic side of things. "At this point I don't care. I'm just glad that Mac can do what she does. I can't lose another person I care about right now. First it was Lizzie, then Lorian, and then Elizabeth. I won't lose Mac too. She is so much more than my friend, Mal, but I don't see her as my mate either. The only other way I can define what she means to me is; she's family. I can't lose another family member, I just can't." His voice had grown soft and almost pleading.

Reed's attention went from Mac to Trip. It had been several months since the terrible Terra Prime incident, ending in the death of Trip and T'Pol's daughter, Elizabeth. T'Pol didn't actually give birth to the child, but she was created from Trip and T'Pol's DNA, cloned by the evil John Paxton. This was first time Trip had mentioned his daughter in all that time. Apparently the cloning process the terrorist group had used had been faulty and the poor baby's systems failed, and she had passed away. Trip and T'Pol had taken it hard; their grief and mourning felt by all those around them. Those who knew them well could see it in their faces, hear it in their tones and inflections when they spoke, and sensed it in quiet moments shared with either or both of them. It floored Reed to hear Trip say he considered Mac part of his family.

"You really feel that way about her?" he asked.

The chief engineer looked affectionately at the woman in his arms. "She saved my life, Mal. I can't explain it. We're connected somehow. Maybe it's because we share the same blood now. I don't know, but she and I have a special and unique bond. She's family to me. I love 'er," Trip voice cracked slightly and tears glistened in his deep, blue eyes as he looked back at Reed.

"Well, then, I guess I'll have to accept that," Reed said with a small smile at his friend's sincerity.

"Do you really mean that, Trip?" came Mac's lovely voice, startling both men.

"You know I do darlin'," Trip said and kissed her forehead.

"Even after all I've done? The evil I'm capable of?" Mac's voice was full of disbelief. She gazed up at him with a longing for his words to be true in her eyes. She now recalled everything that had happened to her; Hister really being a Gorn bent on changing the past, her killing hundreds of Lasiterians for him, Trip singing to try and be of assistance to her, Jonathan stirring the Chimera to life to help her beat Hister's mind control, and the fact that she had tried to save some Lasiterian children from a missile attack.

"You lost your way for a little while, but you found it again. That's all that matters now," Trip told her as he stroked her beautiful face, purposely referencing the song, _Amazing Grace_ that he had sung to her before.

"Thank you, Trip, thank you," Mac said as she was filled with relief and deep gratitude. The meaning in his words was not lost on her. She hugged him to her fiercely; he was her rock upon a stormy sea, her family, her pack.

Wolachea quietly watched the exchange between the humans. It was amazing, the bond they had. It warmed his heart to witness the tender and genuine way they dealt with each other. The regret the transgenic bore and the forgiveness she received from the one called Tucker, touched him. He hated to spoil their moment, but he had to speak with this woman. He needed to find out why she had suddenly decided to save this people's children after massacring so many of his soldiers.

"May I interrupt to speak with you?" he politely asked the three humans, squatting down beside them.

"Sure thing," Trip replied. "Mac, I would like you to met Chief Wolachea of the Lasiterians. Wolachea I would like to meet McKenna McKnight, transgenic super soldier of Earth."

Mac took in the man in front of her. All the Lasiterians made Mac think of the Native American peoples of Earth. This one was tall and lanky, but seemed to be built firmly and solidly. His short, almost black hair was mussed from battle, and his brown eyes were troubled as he looked at her. His skin was a rich, creamy color. He reminded her of some senator from ancient Rome. It must have been his nose; it was long and oddly shaped, but gave him charm and character. Something about him made her respect him and immediately like him. The vibes he gave off were reassuring and friendly, which surprised her. The transgenic thought for sure that he would hate her, want her dead for the destruction she had helped to be visited upon his people.

Wolachea took in the small human in front of him as well. It kept astonishing him how harmless and fragile she appeared at first glance, like a child's breakable doll. Her hair was a glistening shade of dark brown, curly and full. Even with the whitish blonde streaks throughout it, her hair seemed to shine. Her eyes matched his own in their dark coloring. Her face had an angelic quality to it; rosy cheeks, a small and round, yet slightly sharp nose. Again, he was struck by how much she fit the Dark Guardian Prophecy with just her looks alone. Then after what he had seen her do, she had to be the one. She was the alien to come from the stars and save their world.

"It is an honor to finally meet you," Wolachea began simply. "You have been a subject of much debate among my people." He wanted to see what her reaction would be to his turn of phrase.

She didn't disappoint him. "I have?" she questioned. "Why?" Then she hurried on in a panic. "You mean about my rampage earlier? Oh God, I can't begin to even try to say how rotten I feel about that, how sorry I am. What I did was horrendous. You and your people must think I am some kind of nightmare come to life. I can never make up for what I have done." Tears had formed in her dark eyes. Her voice quavered as Trip's arms tightened protectively around her.

"But you have, McKenna McKnight, you have," Wolachea told her kindly, real warmth in his eyes. "You stopped your killing and turned around and gave your life for three of our children. A nightmare, as you so aptly put it, would not do such a thing. For that I am willing to listen to your story. I want to know all about you." She seemed to know nothing of her role in their sacred prophecy. She had thought that his people were angry with her for helping the Vorlorens try and eliminate them, which many were. But Wolachea had learned the virtue of patience. He wanted to hear her explain why she did what she did, before he passed any final judgment upon her.

Mac looked at Trip, and he held her close, trying to reassure her, urge her to tell Wolachea what had happened to her. _There are so many ways to explain it_, she thought wryly. _How can I make this alien understand?_ Words failed her, and she was sure that Wolachea saw the apprehension in her eyes.

He went on, "It is obvious that others care deeply for you and you for others, but you are also capable of great evil. I can't reconcile these two different aspects of you. I need your help to understand. I need to hear it in your own words."

"You aren't the only one who has a hard time reconciling my two sides," Mac finally said. She leaned back into Trip, trying to draw strength from him. She started at the beginning. The genetically engineered woman explained all about her creation, her life one hundred and fifty years ago on Earth, Victor Knight, the Chimera, how she had met the crew of the _Enterprise_, why the Vorlorens had wanted her, what Romdel had done to her, and what Hister had then done to her. She expounded all of the enhanced abilities she had and all the special skills she could command. Mac told him all about her and Archer's connection with each other. She included all she had learned about the Suliban and Future Guy, and especially the part about Hister's true identity and how dangerous he was.

Trip was the first to react to that revelation. "Sonvabitch," he swore. "Cap'n Archer was right. There_ has_ been another faction wreakin' havoc in the past, tryin' ta change the future. Who the hell are the Gorn?" he added at the end of his rant.

"I've only heard them mentioned once," Reed said breaking into the conversation. "When Captain Archer and I were invited over to that Orion pirate, Harrad-Sar's, ship. He mentioned that some of the refreshment we were partaking of was from the Gorn Hegemony. He was very tight lipped about them, however, not offering up much information about their species." From there, Trip and Malcolm had to explain to Wolachea all about the Temporal Cold War and all its facets. The Lasiterian chief was totally stunned by their account.

The only fact Mac held back was about her and the Captain's relationship to Future Guy. That was something no one could know. As she talked, she realized with painful clarity that she was no longer pregnant. The Gen Virus had brought her back, but not the microscopic cells that were the tiny life inside her. When her body had been crushed by the collapsing building, so had the beginnings of the embryo. It seemed that the GV had its limits. This realization filled her with great sorrow._ Why do I keep surviving, an evil and vial thing? Why couldn't the innocent life within me have survived? It deserves to live so much more than I do. Why am I still alive? Why can't my existence end? _

Then she wondered what the implications of the termination of her pregnancy were. _Does it mean the end of Jack and the millions of my descendants? Have I sacrificed the lives of so many for a few alien children? What have I done? _Suddenly, she felt very sick; her stomach knotted and twisted on her, and a wave of nausea swept through her. "I don't feel so well," she whispered to Trip, as the story telling came to an end.

"What's wrong, Mac?" Trip asked her with concern, for she looked unusually pale.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said trying not to let her stomach heave.

"There are bathroom facilities, just before the antechamber ends and becomes the tunnel again," Wolachea informed them. "Take her in there if you need to."

Trip quickly picked Mac up and rushed her to where the Lasiterian had pointed. They barely made it in time before she vomited violently. Trip, ever the gentleman, held her and pulled her hair back from her face. When there was nothing left, Mac continued to dry heave for a time. Trip tried to calm her down until finally, the retching stopped. She fell back into Trip's arms and let him completely support her. He cleaned her mouth and nose for her, and then let her rest.

"What was that all about?" he inquired in a tender tone.

"I don't know," she partially lied. Part of the reaction was from the recognition of wiping out millions of lives with one foolish decision, but she didn't know what else was making her feel so ill.

"Do you think it has anythin' to do with the pain in your head earlier?" he queried, thinking with a completely different train of thought than Mac was.

Mac had totally forgotten about that episode. "Maybe," was all she said.

"What happened out there, Mac?" Trip asked a little more forcefully. "Did you kill that Vorloren sniper?"

"I don't know," she whispered and closed her eyes. "I could've."

"But how? You never touched him. He was too far away. I didn't see you throw anything at him or fire a particle weapon." Trip wasn't about to let her get out of answering him so vaguely.

"I honestly don't know, Trip. Please leave it alone," she pleaded. "I don't want to talk about it right now." It was another monstrous thing to add to her pile of monstrous deeds. She had pictured strangling the Vorloren super soldier to death, smashing his windpipe, and snapping his neck all in her mind. It seemed like that was how he had died too, just like she had imagined. Mac did not want to follow the clues down that road; she knew she wouldn't like where it led. Maybe Hister's drug was causing serious side effects; maybe the drug had unleashed some untapped and latent abilities. _What if the Gen Virus is mutating me again?_ She didn't want to know.

Trip let up on her. She had passed out on him, again, anyway. Sighing, he picked her up and returned her to the main part of the antechamber. Malcolm had collected a sleeping bag and laid it out on the cold, stone floor. "You can lay her here," Reed told Trip.

"Thanks, Mal," Trip said infinitely grateful for his friend's thoughtfulness. "She's in pretty bad shape."

"Coming back from the dead would be hard on anyone," was Malcolm's reply. After Trip had situated Mac, the lieutenant had more to discuss. "I think we have Hoshi to thank for the jamming of the neuro implant signals. I left her in the Lasiterian command center, trying to make herself useful. That kind of move seems like something our communications expert would be able to figure out how to do. Between her and whatever Captain Archer was able to do, you got your Snow White back."

"Yeah. Who'd of thought that by reachin' the Chimera, Mac could break free of Hister's mind control," Trip responded. "What is even more amazin' is that it was the Chimera that chose to save those three little kids. Mac's dark side ain't so dark anymore. But I'm worried about her, Malcolm. Somethin's different about her. I'm wonderin' if Hister's drug didn't mess with her physiology. You saw what happened to that Vorloren sniper?"

"How could I forget it?" Reed shivered at the memory of the big, burly, and bald super soldier holding his throat and spitting up blood, right before his neck broke with an audible crack. "Do you think that Mac did that?"

Trip glanced nervously at the tactical officer. "Yeah, I do," he admitted.

Reed's eyes went wide, eyebrows furrowed. "How in the world could she do that?"

"Psionic abilities," Wolachea said, unexpectedly joining the exchange.

"I beg your pardon?" Trip questioned incredulously.

Wolachea gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry to eavesdrop, gentlemen, but I think there is a topic I now need to enlighten you about, as you have been so willing to enlighten me." He paused for a moment. "I need to tell you about the Dark Guardian Prophecy long held by my people."

* * *

"We're coupling the cloaking generator directly into _Enterprise's _warp engine," Kajine explained to T'Pol as the Suliban and her men speedily installed one of their cloaking devices.

Lieutenant Anne Hess was overseeing the procedure, along with T'Pol. "Is that really necessary?" Hess couldn't help but asked, worried about aliens messing with Commander Tucker's baby.

"It needs the engine's power to encompass a ship the size of _Enterprise_," T'Pol said, addressing Hess' concern. Letting the Suliban delve into the internally working of _Enterprise's_ delicate systems was not her favorite idea either, but she saw the logic of it. "Besides you and your engineering team are carefully observing the installation."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Commander," Hess said wryly, "but I would sure feel better if Commander Tucker were here to be assisting these Suliban experts."

_As do I, Lieutenant; as do I, _T'Pol thought wearily to herself, merely nodding a response to Hess. During this entire process, the Vulcan woman had been wishing fervently for Trip's presence. He had competent people working under him, but they were not _him_. The whole affair was much more his area of expertise than anyone else's, but he wasn't there to oversee the process. He was down on some alien world in the middle of a battle. He could be hurt, seriously injured, or dead. The uncertainty of it all was wearing on T'Pol. She desperately wanted him back, safe and sound. _And what of the Captain? He was still a prisoner of the Vorlorens. Was he all right? Had he and Silik been able to get through Hister's mind control and reach McKenna?_

Once finished installing the cloaking device, the Suliban informed T'Pol, "I'm leaving two men to watch it, the rest will be returning to their ships. I don't want anymore of my people's interference in the current events than necessary. I don't want to go against my leader's orders more than I have to. Good luck, Commander," she added at her departure.

When the cloaking device had been activated it worked perfectly, allowing the secret operation T'Pol had planned to go smoothly and successfully. _Enterprise _was able to get into a high orbit around Vorlora Prime undetected. Chief Suran's codes did their job and allowed his team to infiltrate the High Monarch's residence and mask the transporter signal as well.

T'Pol was now at her science station monitoring the Monarch's residence and grounds for Vorloren life signs. She was locating the positions of the ones that would fall along Chief Suran's path and transmitting that data, almost instantaneously, back to him. Suran himself had an isotopic radiant microchip embedded in his wrist so the ship's sensors could pick him apart from the rest of the Vorlorens around him. That had been Phlox's brilliant idea. It also helped that Suran had a group of four MACOs with him, and it was easy to scan for human biosigns among all the Vorloren ones. It was thought that the smaller the group that went in, the less likely there was the chance of them drawing attention and getting caught.

The former Vorloren security chief was almost to the king's private chambers. It wouldn't be long now, before he would, hopefully, have the High Monarch in his grasp, and then T'Pol could have them all beamed back aboard the starship. The impatience she was feeling had to be because of Trip's influence on her. Patience was something Vulcans had in spades. If Trip's emotions were still having an effect on her, then there was a high probability that he was, indeed, alive. That was a comforting thought to T'Pol despite the inconvenience of the small slip in her emotional control.

T'Pol grimaced as she noted that Chief Suran was surrounded by numerous Vorloren life signs. She began to believe the worst, that he was being overcome by the High Monarch's security forces and personal guards. But as she monitored the life signs, she noticed that Chief Suran's biosignature was still moving forward after a brief pause. _What could that mean?_ she found herself wondering. Manso, the palace butler, and also a former security officer high in the Vorloren ranks, came over to her from where he was keeping an eye on Suran's progress as well.

He had helped plan the entire scheme, but had been ordered to remain on _Enterprise_ and provide assistance from a distance. The tall and thin Vorloren had not been happy about it. He had wanted to be at Suran's side, backing him up. "It seems as though Aster still has a few friends among His Majesty's personal guard," the tall and balding, old man remarked at T'Pol's readings.

"You truly believe that?" T'Pol asked, hoping he was right.

"Not all of our people believe as Hister and Romdel do," Manso said with conviction. "Many of them want peace with the Lasiterians, want unification of our peoples, but they are afraid of Romdel and Hister and the power they weld over the High Monarch. We have been trying for years to remove those from the Council of Elders who share their maniacal and fanatical ideas. It has been a very slow process because we have had to be extremely cautious about doing it, but we have made headway. We do have allies in all sectors of Vorloren life, just not enough to make a real difference, yet."

They continued to watch as Suran and the MACOs made it into the High Monarch's private rooms. When that was achieved, Suran was going to hail T'Pol to activate the transporter and get them all out of there as swiftly as possible. Minutes ticked away with no word from Chief Suran. T'Pol resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. It was taking too long; he should have contacted her by now. His life sign was still coming in loud and clear through her terminal, although there appeared to be three other Vorloren biosigns as well. The Vulcan woman deduced that one of them had to be the king, but who were the others? More minutes went by without a word from their Vorloren collaborator.

"Anything?" T'Pol finally asked of Ensign Jacobs.

"Nothing yet, Commander," came the ensign's quick reply. "All channels are open, but we are not receiving a communication."

Manso put a comforting hand on T'Pol's left shoulder. "Give him a little more time," was all he said. T'Pol tried not to flinch at his touch, as it went against her Vulcan nature, but she appreciated the Vorloren's attempt to be comforting. It seemed like a very human gesture to her, and that was a surprising commonality between the two species.

Soon thirty minutes had gone by without hearing from Suran. T'Pol was about to try and beam them out anyway, when Ensign Jacobs put an urgent hail from the Vorloren through to T'Pol's station. "I'm sorry for the delay, but I have a few, old and dear colleagues that want to make sure they are doing the right thing by letting us take the High Monarch away from here. They are very protective of their sovereign, but they have no desire to serve Hister and Romdel. They have not dared to make any move against them, because they were afraid the High Monarch would be killed if they didn't cooperate. Many of their closer family members have also been used to secure their allegiance. They just want to be reassured that you, who are strangers, can and will really help him."

"What can I do to facilitate their reassurance?" T'Pol would do anything at this point.

Chief Suran's face grew tight, as if he was reluctant to make the request of her. "They want to meet you face to face, and they want you to convince them that you are really here to help."

T'Pol blanched at the appeal. It wasn't a difficult demand to satisfy, but a very risky one. She and Dr. Phlox were the only ones left belonging to the senior staff of _Enterprise_. She was the first officer. The Vulcan commander knew that if she went down there, she stood a good chance was walking into a well-laid trap. With her capture _Enterprise _would be forced to surrender, and they would lose all ability to help their crewmates and the Lasiterians. T'Pol silently cursed that she and the crew had to have gotten this involved in this ridiculous civil war. Why Starfleet had asked them to come here and investigate was beyond her ability to reason soundly.

Then she remembered the tentative new interplanetary and interspecies alliance that humans had helped form not too long ago. Whatever forces were at work here were a real threat to that alliance and its future progression. This system was a pivotal point in the Temporal Cold War, and for some unknown reason _Enterprise_ and Captain Archer had key roles to play in making sure that history and the future remained intact and in their proper order.

"I will gladly meet with your colleagues and help convince them of our sincerity," she told Suran, her decision made. "I will bring Dr. Phlox with me. That way he can get a blood sample from your king and facilitate a cure for the mind controlling drugs in his system."

The surprise showed plainly on Suran's transparent face. "I'll send the coordinates to you right away. Thank you, Commander. I have faith that your argument will be persuasive."

It took less than five minutes for Phlox to gather what he needed from sickbay and for he and T'Pol to arrive in the private rooms of the High Monarch. When they materialized, T'Pol caught sight of the High Monarch of the Vorlorens for the first time. He looked extremely young for thirty. He had some height on him, but was not overly tall. He had short, blonde hair that was combed straight back. He had crisp, white eyes, like a glacier. His chin was rounded, his face oval-shaped. His nose was long and slightly pointed. The king was seated on a deep blue couch. He looked startled by the two aliens' arrival.

Chief Suran and two other Vorlorens, standing on either side of their king, with pulse weapons at the ready, also greeted T'Pol and Phlox. They appeared to be protecting the king, not trying to make any threatening moves towards the two new visitors. They were dressed in a red version of the typical Vorloren uniform T'Pol was used to seeing. They must have been part of the High Monarch's personal guard.

The room around them was colored in differing shades of blues; from navy to royal blue, from light blue to aqua. A dining table with six chairs all made of what looked like a dark, cherry wood, sat towards the back of the room. A writing desk out of the same type of wood was set against another wall to their left. Various chairs and couches of different shapes and sizes were scattered through out the room, taking up the rest of the space. Rich, velvety drapes covered the window to their right. A white door was on the other side of the writing desk, presumably leading to a bedroom suite. Ornate lamps with silver, wavy designs sat on end tables, a smaller one on the writing desk, and a colossal crystalline chandelier was hung above the dining table. Beautiful throw rugs and runners lined the dark, cherry, hardwood floor, all in stylish designs, like oriental rugs from Earth. Adorning the walls were pictures in gilded silver frames of varying sizes. The portraits seemed to be of either past kings, or possibly members of the current king's family.

"Welcome to His Majesty's chamber," Chief Suran greeted his guests. "I would like to introduce you to Malan and Joasal. They are the High Monarch's head bodyguards and close friends of mine. They have been doing what they can to keep our beloved king alive."

"What is the meaning of this?!" the king suddenly shouted. "Why have you allowed these intruders into my presence? You will explain yourself!" It was unclear whether he was addressing his bodyguards or Suran.

T'Pol raised one of her eyebrows. "You have not discussed our arrival with your king?" she asked.

Suran shook his head in the negative. "No. We thought it best that he not be informed. He is still under Hister's influence and is not himself. He may see you as the enemy."

One of the personal guards stepped forward. He was of average build and stature. He had brown hair and a full brown beard and moustache. "I'm Malan," he said, ignoring his sovereign's outburst. "You are a Vulcan," he commented, clearly not happy about this fact. He turned to Phlox. "Your species I do not recognize. I thought the species we were dealing with were humans."

T'Pol tried not to bristle at the disdain she heard in the alien's voice. He obviously knew about how the Vulcans tried to mediate between the warring sides and how they had failed miserably, allowing the war to escalate even further. She now had to overcome that obstacle as well. Before she could reply, however, Phlox spoke up first. "I am a Denobulan. I am serving as the Chief Medical Officer on board the human run starship _Enterprise_. I am also part of an interspecies exchange program with the humans. I came down here because it will be I who figures out a way to counteract whatever drug Hister has been giving your king. Commander T'Pol thought it would be wise for you to meet me."

Malan's cross look did not fade with the Denobulan doctor's cordial demeanor. The High Monarch made his presence known again. "What are they doing here? I demand an explanation! General Hister will not be pleased by this."

"Calm down, Sire," Joasal told him soothingly. This Vorloren had a very silverish cast to his skin. His hair was completely gray and he was shorter than Malan, by almost a hand length. His whitish eyes twinkled. "General Hister asked them to come here to meet you. He feels they can help solve your horrible headache problem." This was an obvious lie to all those but the High Monarch.

"Really?" the king became much more relaxed. "He finally found someone who can stop the pain in my head?"

"Yes, Sire, he has," Joasal lie again.

The High Monarch looked at the two aliens with a new respect and a little relief. "I thank you for coming. It is good to know that General Hister is finally keeping his promise to me."

T'Pol and Phlox both gave a little bow in acquiescence to the Vorloren sovereign. "Joasal, why don't you help our majesty lie down for a time, while I discuss all the details of his aliment with the good doctors here. Then I will have them see to his treatment."

"An excellent idea, Malan," Joasal said, taking the cue to remove the king from the room. "Come, Sire. Let's get you to bed." The High Monarch glanced blankly at his trusted bodyguard, and then moved to go with him to his bedroom. When Joasal came back, Malan started in on T'Pol again.

"Why should I trust a Vulcan, when your people were so helpful in the past?" he almost spat his words at her.

"You have no logical reason to do so," she began, "except I am not here representing my people. I am the First Officer of the starship _Enterprise_. I am Captain Jonathan Archer's second-in-command. I regret that Captain Archer is not here to speak with you himself, but he is a prisoner of General Hister at the moment. I am here representing him and the humans of Earth. Dr. Phlox is an expert at solving unusual medical problems and is also greatly trusted by Captain Archer. We can both adequately speak for him."

Chief Suran jumped into the conversation. "I have a blood sample from the king. If Dr. Phlox can develop a counteragent to Hister's drug, we will then agree to all flee this place with you and try and stop our forces from exterminating the Lasiterians."

"But only after you prove your sincerity and trustworthiness," Malan interrupted. "Aster has spoken highly of your captain and of you, something he does not do lightly. It takes an awful lot to convince Aster of anything. But in this case, I need my own proof. I will do everything in my power to protect my king."

Phlox tried to be diplomatic with his next statement. "If you want me to treat and cure your sovereign, I need to do so aboard _Enterprise_ in my sickbay. I can be most effective that way. I am afraid your facilities just won't be adequate. It means you will have to take 'a leap of faith' as humans call it. I give you my word as a physician that your trust will not be misplaced."

Malan looked ready to argue with Phlox, but it was Joasal that replied. "Then Commander T'Pol stays here while you treat our king. If you are true to your word, we will join you aboard your ship and do as Aster has outlined."

Phlox thought it was a fair trade. It seemed that T'Pol did too. "Agreed. I will remain in your custody while Phlox tries to free the High Monarch from his enslavement." She turned her attention to the doctor. "Do you think you will be successful, doctor?"

"I can't give you a one hundred percent guarantee, but I haven't seen a toxin that I could find an antidote for," Phlox said with forced confidence.

"We don't have much time, doctor," T'Pol reminded him. "So please work with as much haste as possible."

It was then decided that Chief Suran and Joasal would accompany Phlox and the king back up to the ship. Malan and T'Pol would remain at the High Monarch's residence and Malan would try to keep up appearances, so no others would be alerted to what was transpiring. Time would now tell if Dr. Phlox could work another of his miracles and overcome the chemical control that was holding the Vorloren king hostage. And it would tell if the High Monarch was adult enough and a good person enough to do the right thing when he was himself once again.

* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer looked Amy hard in the eye to see if she was telling him the truth, that his Mac was, indeed, alive. "Close your eyes and reach out to her with your mind," Amy instructed him.

Archer pulled out of her embrace and gave her a questioning glance. "I don't have the neuro implant anymore. How can I contact her now?" he asked with frustration in his voice.

"You don't need the implant," Amy told him. "Your psychic-emotion bond goes much deep than you know. You're not telepathic, but you can sense her, get a feel for her essence. Just try it."

After giving the temporal agent another doubtful look, he did as he was told and closed his eyes, sitting up straight. He took a deep breathe and thought about the woman who had stolen his heart. Something with in him instinctively sought her out, searching for any trace of her. He couldn't feel anything; that frightened him. He opened his eyes and gasped. "She's not there. I can't sense her," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"Try again," Amy encouraged. "Don't force it. Just let it happen. Have a little faith."

The Captain closed his eyes again and attempted to do as she directed. The same instinctual need reached out for his mate again. Then he felt her; Mac was alive. She was sleeping, dreaming. She felt confused and full of despair. He wanted to comfort her, be there for her. As if by his will alone, he was abruptly pulled into her dream. He felt like he was falling through the air, and he tried not to panic because he wanted nothing more than to be with her. He landed in what looked like a scenic backyard from the Earth of his childhood, in upstate New York.

A picturesque little house sat upon a hill in front of him, painted a creamy white color with a slanted, shingled roof. A small, gurgling stream flowed through the yard. Big elm and maple trees dotted the landscape. A hammock was tied between two large maple trees. The grass was healthy and green, stretching all around the yard. He noticed an old-fashioned rope swing was hanging from what looked like a huge sycamore tree with very large and thick branches. The quaint house had a roomy back porch with an elegant, light oak railing spanning its length. There were deck chairs and a swinging loveseat set upon the porch, back up closer to what was the back door to the house. Mac was sitting in the loveseat, talking to an older looking man, whose hair was growing gray and who wore glasses. The man was dressed in a handsome checkered, blue shirt and khaki pants. Mac was wearing a charming, yellow and white sun dress that came to just below her knees. Archer had never seen her look so feminine and soft before; it was a delightful sight.

The Captain could still feel Mac's confusion and despair. He had to know what they were talking about. He crept closer to the back porch, up and over the stream, passed the tree swing, and up the hill to his destination. Somehow he knew it wouldn't be good to alert the two of them to his presence, so he hung back, hiding behind a particularly large maple tree. He could hear their voices drift down off the porch.

"It's good to see you, McKenna," the man with glasses was saying. "It's been along time."

"Do I know you?" he heard Mac asked, perplexed.

"You'll figure it out in a minute," the man told her. "You were always two or three steps ahead of the rest of your brothers and sisters, always different from them."

Archer peaked around the tree to try and see the pair, as well as hear them. He saw Mac start as recognition came into her eyes. "Victor," she gasped.

"See, I told you," Victor McKnight replied. He gazed at Mac with pure parental love. "I am so proud of you. You have turned out so much better than I could have ever hoped."

Mac stared at her creator. "How can you say that? I'm a monster, a demon! I'm no better than those who killed you!" she cried. It cut Archer to the bone to hear say that. She was not a monster, at least not him, and she never would be, no matter what she did.

"Mac, sweetheart, no you're not," Victor said and cupped her face in his hands. "If any one is the monster here, it's _me_. I'm the one who tampered with nature, who tried to play God. It was _I_, who mixed human and animal DNA trying to create the perfect creature. It was _I_, who brought you screaming into the world trying to improve humanity. But you were always different from the others I designed, Mac. From the minute you took your first breath I knew your soul was not like the others. Some being, far more powerful than myself, gave the flesh I created a unique and special spirit. You were pure and good from the very beginning, despite my mistakes. I tried to tell myself it was because when I mixed your DNA sequences I included part of my own DNA in them. That part of me was you, and that I could have a real child, that was truly my own. You 're the only transgenic I did that with."

Tears were flowing freely down Mac's face. "So you're really are my father?" she whispered.

"Yes, sweetheart, I am," Victor said and pulled her into a loving, heartwarming embrace. "But it wasn't my DNA that made you different, made you good. It was the spirit that was housed in the body I created that makes you who you are. Even as a scientist and genetic expert, there was something divine I was missing in my process. All the others I created lacked that divine spark, but it was given to you. I felt it the instant you were born, so I tried to nurture you, teach you, and help you develop that divine nature. I didn't want you to be like the others, mere animals. I wanted to help you be more than that. I wanted you to be more than just a perfect soldier. I desired that you be my daughter, my family."

Mac was shaking with great sobs, clinging to the man who had been her father. He held her tightly to him and patted her back, comforting her. "I loved you so much, my beautiful daughter. I'm sorry that I failed you. That I let my foolish notions of grandeur get me killed. I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry for all the mistakes I made in mixing your DNA. I'm sorry for probing into areas that were better left to God. Can you ever forgive me for all the horrible sins I have committed against you?" Victor too, was crying, torn by guilt and remorse.

Mac hugged him more fervently. "You don't have anything to be forgiven for, Father," she choked out. "It is because of you that I have kept going; because of all those precious stories you told me. All the fairytales, myths, and legends with their values and gallant heroes you chose to expose me to. I wanted to be like them, like you. I didn't wish to disappoint you in anyway. You worked so hard to teach me what was right and what was wrong. You were so diligent in your instruction of how to be a good person. If it wasn't for you, I would've ended up just like the others. You showed me a better way." Mac was determined to defend her father, to make him see how much he meant to her.

Victor drew back and gently wiped at her tears. "But you never asked for any of this," he told her, waving his hand in the air in a circle. "I hate knowing that you have to struggle with yourself, that you have to fight so hard to keep your spirit good. I didn't make it easy for you." He paused as he watched his daughter's face as she realized what he was doing. "I knew you'd come to realize that you are not a monster or a demon. I have placed you in unthinkable circumstances by messing with the natural order of things, but you continue to fight your way out of them. Every time you get knocked down, you find the strength to get back up. Every time evil tries to control you, you find a way to push it back and fight it off. That's what is important. That's what counts. No one expects you to be perfect. All that really matters is that you stay on the straight and narrow path and get up each time you fall. You don't have come in first place in the race, my dear, just finish it."

"I don't know if I can do that anymore," Mac confessed, full of despair again. "I'm sick of fighting myself. I'm sick of being used by others. I can't keep doing this. I've done so many bad things, committed so many evil deeds. I don't deserve to go on. I'm not worth it."

Victor suddenly became angry, his dark, blue eyes flashing with it, his mouth tight. "Don't you ever say that!" he snapped. "I don't want to ever hear you say that you aren't worth it! Mac, you are the one good thing I ever did in my whole life. You are what made my death mean something. You are my saving grace."

"What are you saying?" she questioned, voice still shaking, shocked that her father thought so much of her.

"I have committed more evil deeds in my life than you could ever imagine. By creating you and trying to teach you how to be good, I changed my ways. You were a path back to purity, a chance to make up for my evil past. You have a destiny greater than you will ever know, Mac," Victor said holding her face in his hands and making her look at him deep in his eyes. "Where ever your divine spark came from, it was placed into the enhanced body I put together. You were born to be a guardian, to strengthen the weak, to defend the defenseless, to save those in danger, to heal those in pain, to succor those in mourning, to bring hope to those who have none, and to kick evil's ass."

Mac couldn't help but laugh at her father's last statement. It was so like him. "All the things you have gone through, all you have suffered, all the trials and tribulations you have had to face, have all been for your experience and for your benefit. They were training you, teaching you, making you stronger, refining you, and helping you purge the potential evil from you. You can't give up now. You purpose and destiny is just beginning. Have faith, my daughter. You're not alone, and never have been. I am always with you and will never leave you. Trust in the Lasiterians' Great Spirit. He is real. I can testify to you he exists. He is why you are dreaming of me now, why I can communicate with you. He can help you. He loves you too, and sees the great potential in you. He wants you to succeed. Don't ever give up, my beautiful child."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Mac asked with great need in her voice, grasping at his hands with hers. All the things he was telling her were things she had already thought about and pondered. She had even said some of the same things to Jonathan about herself, but it meant something more to hear those same ideas come out of her father's mouth. It made them all the more tangible and real.

"Because you have earned a little remuneration, sweetheart," Victor explained to her. "You have responded well to the promptings the Great Spirit has been trying to send to you. You have been willing to give your life, not only once, but twice now. You have been willing to sacrifice your future, your family, for that of others and their families. It is truly heroic to die that others may live, but now you must be determined to live. You need to live for others, to serve others. It is courageous and honorable to die for your cause, but it is even more valiant to live and live well. There are so many more people who need your help, Mac. You just have to be willing to keep on fighting, to keep on living, not for you, but for those who need you."

Mac stood up and walked to the porch's railing. Archer ducked back behind the maple tree so she wouldn't see him. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Some of the conversation reminded him of statements Mac had made to him earlier, but it seemed she needed to hear them again. She was getting a pep talk from her decreased father. It was utterly amazing.

"What if I can't do that, Father? What if I can't find it within myself to do as you say?" she demanded of him.

"Trust your heart. It is virtuous and just," Victor said as he turned her around and forced her to look at him, as he came up behind her. "Your faith with guide you. Trust in your path. Trust that you are chosen. Don't let fear and doubt rob you of your destiny. Just keep believing in the good that you can do, and the noble woman that you are. You know all this deep inside. You are not alone," he repeated his earlier statement. "You are surrounded by trustworthy and compassionate supporters. Lean on them, draw strength from them, and serve them. And remember that you are loved, my daughter. You are loved so very much." The last he stressed heavily and said it in the present tense this time.

"I want to believe, Father, but when I am in the thick of things, I lose my way," she refused to look Victor in the eye, her head bowed.

Victor laughed softly. "Don't we all. We all have our weaknesses, Mac. We all have our faults. We all make mistakes, but those mistakes don't become failures unless we let them. We learn, we grow, and we go on. We can chose how we react to things, even if it seems we can't control what happens to us. I know you can do this, sweetheart. I have faith in you." He regarded her for a moment, thoughtfully. He seemed to know just what her real fears were. "Forgive yourself, Mac. What happened earlier, was not within your control, and you overcame it. Don't dwell on it. It will not be held against you.

"And know that you will get everything you want, Mac. The desires of your heart are pure and exactly what they should be. You may not get it all right now or even years down the road, but it will come to you, when the time is right. You will have a family, and you will be with the man you love. Don't listen to the lies that others have told you. You can discern what the truth is and what is not. Be patient and follow your destiny. Don't be afraid of opposition. A kite doesn't fly high without rising against the wind," Victor finished, hugging his daughter to him once more.

The Captain was shocked by what Victor McKnight had just said. The last phrase sounded so much like what is father had once told him, "Don't be afraid of the wind." He and Mac were so much the same. It seemed that he also had a savage side, that if not controlled could be very dangerous and destructive. He had many faults and preconceptions to overcome. He had demons he had to learn to live with. The faces of the aliens he left stranded in the Expanse after he had stolen their warp coil from them, still haunted his dreams, and the guilt ate at him. Yet, he knew he had good traits too. He understood he was capable of doing the greater good, and that he had done many good and noble deeds. He and Mac were each others Yin and Yang. Together they made each other whole.

He was so amazed at all these thoughts that he stumbled backwards and tripped over one of the behemoth tree's outgrown roots. His crashing to the ground and the movement it created, drew the attention of Mac and Victor. Mac gasped as she saw him, and then her face lit up, as if she had been the sun behind a cloud and the cloud had finally drifted on by. Victor also seemed surprised, but he too, smiled warmly at Archer's appearance.

"Jonathan!" Mac cried and raced down the porch steps and down to where he had so unceremoniously fallen. She reached her hand out and pulled him to his feet. They stood inches apart, just taking each other in. Mac was the first to reach out and touch, caressing his face lightly; he reciprocated in kind. Although, this enchanting and vibrant woman stirred many parts of him to life, it was his heart that she stirred the most. Right now all he cared about was her happiness and her well-being.

He slipped his arms around her and just held her to him. The warmth that passed between them had nothing to do with lust, but everything to do with true love. His strength of spirit flowed into her and hers into him. They energized each other as they replaced what the other had been lacking. It was joyous to just be held and to be loved, no conditions, nothing held back. Both understood the depth of their others feelings for one another. Mac was coming to understand she needed to learn how to love more deeply, more fully, and more unconditionally; with Jonathan that was easy.

"I'm trusting you to take care of her, Jon," Victor said, suddenly materializing beside the couple. "She needs you to help her find the light." Mac was amazed at how much Victor's statement was true. Trip was her rock, but Jonathan was her light. He was her North Star, constant, unchanging, in his devotion and loyalty. He was her light in the darkness. She also was struck with the thought that it didn't matter if he was right by her side, or light years away, he would always be there to light her way. When she got lost, even thinking about him would be enough to help her find the right path again. These thoughts comforted her and healed the heartache she had been feeling about the possibility of having to give him up for what might be a very, long time.

"You have my word, Victor, I will always be there for her," Archer found himself saying. "It may not be in a physical sense, but a part of me will always be there to guide her, and a part of her will always be in my heart to guide me." The Captain was learning what it was like to give himself to another person completely. It was easy with his crew, his ship, but one-on-one was different. This woman complemented him perfectly. Where he was weak, she was strong, and vice versa. They really were two halves of the same whole.

The lovers leaned in towards each other, not for a kiss, but to allow their foreheads to touch and rest against one another. Somehow their connection was magnified and enlarged beyond their abilities to fully grasp or understand, but neither one would ever be without the other in some form or another. It was like two halves of the same soul, merged and became one, never to be truly parted again. They were part of each other, now and forever. It brought a sense of peace that neither one of them had ever experienced before.

TBC

**I will start building up to the climax next. Don't forget to leave a parting thought for the author; she is review needy.**


	37. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For language**

**A/N: Sorry for the really long delay in posting a new chapter. I haven't given up on this story, so I hope my readers haven't. Life tended to get really hectic and messed up for a while. Things are not fully back to normal, but enough that I finally felt the pull to post and had enough inspiration to move forward. I am determined to finish this story. This chapter has a lot reveals in it and finally starts putting all the pieces together. There will be four more chapters to build up to a climax, and then have a little resolution. Please read and enjoy, and don't forget to give that encouraging review.**

**Thanks go out to LadyRainbow for sticking with me this long and always pushing me to do better.**

**Chapter 36**

Hoshi worked furiously to keep the frequency jammed. The battle was still raging below and above the command center. Ensign Mayweather was helping Hoshi kept track of all the various skirmishes that were going all around them. The Vorloren super soldiers had been slowed down, but they were nevertheless continuing to pummel the Lasiterian forces.

A Lasiterian comm officer had some disturbing news for her as Hoshi was working the control panel in front of her. "Chief Wolachea, the platoon he was commanding, and your Lieutenant Reed have disappeared," the tall, caramel-haired Lasiterian woman informed those around her as she filtered through all the reports coming in to her terminal. "There is no sign of the human super soldier either."

"We have another problem," a dark-haired, older Lasiterian technician announced from his terminal down the way. "It appears that we have a major group of Vorloren super soldiers fighting their way directly to the command center."

"Why are they making a frontal assault against this command center?" Hoshi wondered out loud.

Travis jumped up from his station and ran over to the Lasiterian's. When he saw the different views from the observation cameras, he could see some Vorloren super soldiers were attempting to climb up the sheer rock wall of the canyon and others were repelling down from the top of the plateau. As the Lasiterian synchronized the images, Travis was the first to figure out why their location was now a Vorloren target.

"I think they want to bust in here and try and take out the Lasiterians' deflector shield. The main control panel is right behind me," Travis informed them all.

Numerous Lasiterian technicians bustled around the command center, feverishly laboring to direct their forces and provide communication and power resources to where their comrades-in-arms needed them. A team of dedicated technicians was manning the stations pertaining to the deflector shield grid and controls. Although the technicians were not regular Lasiterian militia, they were armed to the teeth and knew very well how to defend themselves, each other, and their posts. Ensign Mayweather could tell that they would put up a knock-down-drag-out fight if they had too. It was now looking like that would be a very real possibility, and he and Hoshi would be right in the middle of the attack.

"Is there any way you can help the Lasiterians find a way to get reinforcements up here?" Travis asked Hoshi.

"I've been trying," she replied, frantic, "but it seems the Vorlorens are working on jamming the Lasiterians as much as I've been jamming them."

Mayweather tried to keep calm as he spoke to Hoshi. "Keep trying, Hosh. We've got to get some help up here, or we _will_ be in big trouble."

"I know, I know," Hoshi groaned. "I so wish Malcolm was still here. He could help these poor people mount a better defense. Or it would be even better if Mac were here, fighting on our side."

Travis had seen the damage the human super soldier could inflict. He agreed wholeheartedly with the communications officer's sentiment, and Lieutenant Reed would also be a great asset right now. "Why are they doing this now?" he wondered out loud. "I mean most of their battalions are through the deflector shield and a fair amount of their equipment. Why do they want to bring the shield down now?"

"Probably because their army is not as effective as they had originally hoped," Hoshi commented dryly. "They want to use their fleet's fire power to destroy the entire base. Right now, it is taking far longer and the fighting is far more evenly matched than they would like it to be."

The young helmsman's face showed his horror as his eyes widened and the color drained from his cheeks. "We can't let that happen," he said with great determination. "I'm going to help them defend this place." Now it was Hoshi's turned to look horrified. "We're right in the Vorlorens' line of sight. We're in the thick of this mess, this war. We can either stand by and do nothing, or we can pitch in and help."

"Just another day at the office, huh?" she answered wryly. "Risking our lives once again."

"We might be dead either way," Mayweather expounded. "There's no guarantee that the Vorlorens won't just kill us along with every one else. We are in their way, and we know too much. I'd rather die fighting, than cowering in a corner."

That seemed to hit Hoshi's pride as she agreed with Travis "I don't want to die period, but I will not hide under my desk. I'll fight for these people; they _do_ need our help."

Travis smiled at his friend and colleague. "You've come a long way, Hosh. Keeping trying to flag down the cavalry, we may yet stand a chance."

Hoshi's fingers flew over the various communications consoles, trying her best to find a way to signal for help. In her mind she wished ardently for Mac's help. With the neuro implants disabled, she might be in a position to come to their aid, and Hoshi prayed that would be so. Her mind called out to Mac as powerfully as it could; they needed the transgenic. She just had to come, she just had to.

* * *

Malcolm Reed was gently running his hands through Mac's luminous hair, mainly playing with its soft ends. He couldn't help himself as he sat by her side in the underground tunnel. She was absolutely captivating, sleeping peacefully on the makeshift bed he had made for her. She had moaned out the Captain's name once in her sleep, but otherwise, she was quiet. Trip had asked the tactical officer to watch over her for a few moments.

The chief engineer had instructed Reed to make sure Mac was breathing every few minutes, just to make sure she was still alive. He took the task seriously and found himself studying the stunning Snow White. As he toyed with her hair's silky tendrils, he made a startling discovery: her hair was all dark brown again. The whitish-blonde streaks were gone. The Gen Virus working its magic once again, and it had even returned her hair to its most vibrant. Reed shook his head in wonder.

It still was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be so deadly. The chief tactical officer had experienced Mac's brutally first hand, but since then he had learned that she was capable of great compassion and self-sacrifice. He was becoming mesmerized by her. Reed was beginning to understand the hold she had over his captain and Trip. The commander was pacing back and forth the short distance between one wall of the antechamber and the other, deep in thought, while Reed sat with Mac. Trip was trying to digest all the information Wolachea had divulged to them about the Lasiterians' Dark Guardian Prophecy. It had chilled both he and Malcolm to the bone.

"The prophecy tells of a woman who would come from a distance world and save my people from extinction," Wolachea had told Malcolm and Trip.

_Well, Mac is from Earth, an alien world, far away from the Vorloren system,_ Malcolm thought to himself as he listened.

"The prophecy describes her as small, but formidable," Wolachea had continued. _That fit Mac._ "It speaks of her as a woman of great power and strength. She will have special skills and abilities: greater speed, greater agility, greater sight, hearing, and sense of sense smell, greater strength than many Lasiterians males combined, greater ability react to her environment and anticipate what would happen next, and she would be able to heal any injury, even those that would cause most people an instantaneous death." _Mac has most of those, _Malcolm commented in his head.

"The prophecy mentions that it would appear as if she could rise from the dead, if mortally wounded," Wolachea had finished. _Bloody hell, Mac's done that as well._

It was the psionic abilities that Wolachea had mentioned to Trip and Malcolm that were so worrying. Trip knew a little bit about what those were and shared his knowledge with Reed. Vulcans had a few to an extent. They were partially telepathic, being able to join minds and share a mental bond with a life mate. Trip confessed to Malcolm that he knew of this first hand; he shared such a bond with T'Pol. T'Pol had been less than pleased about the situation at first because it had surprised her that a Vulcan and a human could even form that kind of bond. As time went on, Trip and T'Pol took great comfort in it, especially since the death of Elizabeth. Trip and T'Pol were able to console each other like no one else could.

Mac's psychic-emotional link to Archer was a similar ability, being able to feel what he felt, empathic to an extent. This connection was much weaker than what T'Pol and Trip had, but it was a psionic ability nonetheless. Vulcans could also meld their minds with others to learn of one's true thoughts and motives, to help long buried memories come to the surface, and to even plant simple suggestions in another's mind. Mac hadn't shown any of those abilities, yet that Malcolm or Trip knew of.

Psionics, however, dealt with more than just telepathy and empathic abilities. It possessed many other categories, like; precognition, clairvoyance, extra-sensory perception, psychokinesis or telekinesis, astral projections, waking dreams, and so on. Trip told Malcolm he was dwelling on the psychokinesis bit. Wolachea had explained what forms that ability could take. Someone with that ability could move objects and people, control fire, water, electricity, and other forces. Its theory was based on the fact that energy existed in everything in the universe. If certain neuro pathways could be activated in specific sequences, a person could reach out with the energy from their mind and influence the energy outside of themselves. Since matter and energy were supposed to be inextricably linked through the laws of physics, a person could use the energy of their mind to move or control objects by manipulating the energy flowing around or through those objects.

It had struck Malcolm and Trip as extremely ironic that a people, like the Lasiterians, who had such deep spiritual beliefs, would look at psionics from a scientific perspective, instead of a superstitious one. They didn't believe it was magic; to them psionics were just part of the evolution of a species, something one grew into. Phlox would have a profound and very logical explanation for the whole thing, but unfortunately for them, the doctor was not here.

"You're aware of the fallacy about how humans only used a small percentage of their brains, right Mal?" Trip suddenly asked the lieutenant, stopping his pacing and looking right at Reed.

"I think I know where you are going with this," Malcolm replied, trying to recall his basic biology classes. His brow knitted as he thought hard. "In reality, aren't all parts of the brain in use, but only at different times and in different ways? It's like neuro pathways continually change and reorganize themselves every time a person experiences something new. For us humans to develop psionic abilities wouldn't be that difficult, depending on how the neuro pathways were formed and connected."

"Yeah, I'm thinkin' that some of my neuro pathways must have found new connections to make or I wouldn't be able to share my mind with T'Pol. Somethin' has had to have changed in my brain structure or my brain chemistry because of T'Pol," Trip explained and started pacing again, full of frustrated energy. "But Mac's unlike any other human. The way her nervous system and brain works, that's far beyond what's consider 'normal'."

Trip was quiet for a moment, stroking his chin with his hand as he thought. "Havin' watched the Vorloren sniper die the way we did and from Mac's uncommitted confession that she could have done it, I'm now thinkin' she has a least some of the psionic abilities that Dark Guardian Prophecy talked about. I think Mac killed that sniper by merely thinkin' it. She somehow was able to direct the energy of her thoughts to maneuver the energy around the hidden super soldier and use that energy to kill him."

"That's a terrifying idea," Malcolm said looking at the sleeping transgenic. "If Mac can kill with her thoughts, what else can she do?" His eyes widened, and then looked back to Trip who had stopped to lean against the cavern wall.

"The testimony of two of the Lasiterian children that Mac saved from that missile attack is also makin' me into a believer, Mal. I think Mac _is _this Dark Guardian Wolachea told us about," Trip confessed.

The Dark Guardian was aptly named, in Reed's opinion, for two reasons. One was concerning her appearance: dark hair and dark eyes and dressed in black. The second was concerning her nature, and Malcolm recalled Wolachea's words about it. "The prophecy tells of a great evil that the Dark Guardian would have inside, but yet she didn't want. She would be troubled, conflicted, at war with herself. Her past would be something that would haunt her. She must conquer this dark side if she was to serve the people. She would be capable of much love and compassion if she could subdue the primal forces inside of her." Trip had looked at Malcolm, both of them sharing a moment of total shock and disbelief.

"She would have companions that would aid her in her quest, teach her the meaning of love and sacrifice. Much of her power and strength comes to her through her dark side, but it can be channeled to do much good. It is all up to what the Dark Guardian chooses to do. If she chooses to give into evil, then she will have to be destroyed. If she chooses to overcome the monster within, then she will become the salvation of my people and a great leader among them." _All of that sounds exactly like what Mac had been fighting her whole life, her primitive instincts, her demon, as she called it, _Malcolm had thought.

The tactical officer was beginning to come to the same conclusion Trip was. Mac very possibly was this Dark Guardian. "This whole situation just seems impossible," he said softly to Trip.

"You know somethin' else, ironic I've been thinkin'?" Trip questioned of his friend, but didn't wait for answer. He crouched down next to the lieutenant and spoke very excitedly. "I'm suddenly rememberin' some stories my great-grandmother use to tell. She was a very Southern, very religious and Christian woman. Accordin' to her beliefs, the devil, the temper of mankind, had been an angel of light. He rebelled against God and was cast out of heaven for his disobedience and treachery to become the king of demons. Mac's story is just the opposite. She's the demon, or the damned soul, tryin' to get to heaven. She wants to be obedient and do the right thing so she can become an angel of light. She's a dark angel, Mal."

It took Reed a moment to process all of what Trip had said. The symbolism was powerful and thought provoking, and again it pointed to Mac being the woman to fulfill the aliens' prophecy. _Could it really be true? Could there be some grand plan or design in affect here? _It blew Malcolm's mind to think about it.

Trip wasn't quite done with his verbal expressions of his thoughts. He stood and paced again, as Malcolm shifted slightly next to Mac. "Another thing that I'm really concerned about is how Mac developed her new psionic abilities? Have they always been part of her genetic makeup?Or has Romdel's or Hister's drug unleashed them, or given them to her? Could all this be another effect of the Gen Virus?"

Malcolm decided that the chief engineer had really been thinking too much, so he would try to lighten the mood a little. "I didn't realize you were such a deep thinker, Commander. You really do concentrate on more than the warp core and all its various and a sundry parts." He smirked his usual smirk to show Trip he was teasing him.

"Oh, hell Malcolm, I wish that was all I had to think about," Trip shot back with a smile finally slipping from him.

Mac stirred and awoke from her sleep. At first she slowly opened her deep brown eyes and yawn like a contented cat. Then she sat up abruptly and froze as if she were listening to something Reed and Trip couldn't hear.

"Mac, are you all right?" Reed asked her softly, touching her leg gently. The human super soldier's face looked pained to him; she was grimacing and her brow furrowed, concerning him.

Trip went to her side the moment she sat up. The tactical officer had obviously not been the only one who noticed the way her forehead was creased. "What's wrong, darlin'?" Trip demanded when he reached her.

Mac didn't answer immediately. Her eyes closed, and she appeared to be concentrating on something. The genetically engineered woman's eyes then flew open. "The Lasiterian command center is going to be overwhelmed by Vorloren super soldiers. They're going to bring down the deflector shield," she suddenly blurted out.

"What!?" Trip and Reed said at the same time, looking at each other and then Mac.

"We need to get this platoon of Lasiterian soldiers back there now," Mac stated, ignoring the two humans' questioning glances. She rose to her feet, perfectly fit and ready to go. "Chief Wolachea," she said respectfully as she strode toward the cream colored alien, leaving Malcolm and Trip to stare after her.

"I heard what you said, milady," he returned. "And I believe you." Wolachea started issuing orders and assignments to his men, organizing them and mobilizing them. It seemed to Reed that the Chief truly did believe what Mac was saying. She must have proved herself to him by sacrificing herself for those three little kids.

Mac had a relieved look on her face that Wolachea didn't argue with her, but Malcolm could tell she was also quite surprised by his faith in her. "You do?" she inquired of him. "How can you? Not that I'm not glad because your people really are in danger, but how can you forgive me like that?"

"I haven't forgiven you of anything, yet," he told her with a little anger, his eyes narrowing, "but you chose to save the lives of three innocent children. You stopped your rampage when you realized what the Gorn was making you do. If you continue to protect my people and help us vanquish our enemy, then I will be able to forgive you, for you will have avenged our dead and saved us from annihilation."

"Can we get to them in time?" she asked all business now.

"If we continue to utilize the underground tunnel system, we can come up right in the heart of the command center, very quickly. The tunnels travel all through the plateau, from far beneath it, to right on up through the entire canyon wall on both sides," Wolachea informed her. "No scans can detect them. The mineral in the rocks here interferes with sensor scans, giving false readings. The tunnels are known only to us."

The Lasiterian ingenuity impressed the strategist in Reed; they knew how to be prepared. It was true that they were trying to remain hidden and protected from extinction, but it still made him marvel.

"I'll take half the platoon and you the other. We can converge on the command center from tunnels below it and also from tunnels above it. It is in the center of the plateau, embedded in the rock wall of the canyon," Wolachea expounded his plan.

"Yes, I saw it when I flew with the Vorloren scouting vessels," Mac said matter-of-factly. "Your plan sounds like a sound strategy."

Trip suddenly burst into the conversation. "You aren't doin' what I think you're gonna do?" he accused. "How do you know what's happenin'?"

Malcolm had to speak up in protest as well. "What are you basing your assessment on? I'm all for getting back into this fight, going into battle again with you, but where are you getting your information from?'

Mac turned to them and smiled grimly. "You'll just have to trust me," she said simply. "You of all people should know if the deflector shield goes down, the Vorloren fleet will obliterate what's left of the Lasiterians. We can't let that happen. Hoshi and Travis are in danger there as well." She was very adamant, and then she confessed, "I can hear Hoshi's ardent mental plea for help. It's her greatest desire to have Lieutenant Reed or myself come to her aid. I'm not going to just leave her and those she's with to perish."

"You're really are gonna do it aren't you?" Trip demanded again, panic in his voice. "Based on a voice in your head?" Reed could see him struggling with how to handle this new development.

_Is this another psionic ability or is Mac losing her mind?_ Malcolm wondered to himself. _Is Hoshi really in danger?_

"Yes, Trip, I _am_," Mac said in a tone that booked no further argument. "I _am_ going to embrace my destiny and stop Solin from changing history. I _am_ going to fight his army and save the Lasiterians." Trip couldn't seem to answer her; the look of determination and conviction in her eyes must have stopped the words in his mouth. He was going to have to accept her decision, as was Malcolm.

"What do you want us to do?" Reed queried when Trip fell silent. Trip smiled a grateful smile at him. This was all for one and one for all time, and the two humans made their choice to throw in with the underdogs. They were the good guys here, and they needed all the help they could get. Malcolm knew he and Trip were just going to have to trust that Mac's sanity wasn't slipping and that she knew what in the hell she was doing.

Wolachea had most of his men moved out, down the tunnel. A group was waiting for Mac to split off and use another, separate tunnel. The war chief stopped the transgenic with a hand on her arm before she too moved off. "You need a weapon," was all he said as he pulled out from a holder behind his back containing two sais. He took her right hand and placed them in it. Mac stared at them in horror, going pale and her mouth open in shock.

"You want me to use these? Where did you find them?" she croaked out. Malcolm wondered what why she was reacting that way to such fine weaponry.

He got his answer quickly from Wolachea. "Don't you think it is appropriate that the weapons that you once wielded in the slaughter of my people should be washed clean by shedding the blood of our enemies in our defense?" he asked in a heavy tone, and then continued, "I found them out on the battlefield covered in Lasiterian blood. Someone carelessly left such fine weaponry lying in the dirt." Malcolm almost choked at the chief's wording, so closely matching his own in his mind.

In some strange way Wolachea's words made sense to Reed. It was an eye for an eye time, time for a reckoning. The Lasiterians who had been driven, beaten, and tortured would now fight full out to defend their wives, their husbands, their children, their freedom, and their religion. They would not hold back this time; this was the endgame. Mac would be their avenging angel. She had the power to route the Vorloren super soldier army. The Lasiterians would make every effort to fight their enemy, but in the end it would come down to Mac and her abilities.

"I will do as you wish," Mac replied softly, flipping the sais around a few times, getting a feel for them again, apparently coming to the same conclusion Malcolm had.

"I also have a change of clothing for you," Wolachea said, springing another surprise on his people's Dark Guardian. "I, and my people, would be honored if you would wear the uniform that was made especially for the Dark Guardian, if she was ever really found."

A beautiful Lasiterian woman with raven black hair stepped out of the shadows with a garment in her hands. The woman herself was wearing a dark brown tunic and leather pants. Her blue eyes gleamed with excitement. Mac glanced over the proffered outfit. The material looked like leather, but when Mac touched it, it wavered like silk. The "uniform" consisted of a sleeveless top that hooked around a person's neck. It would cover Mac's curves and yet accentuate them too. It appeared like the top would hit her just below her belly button, leaving a slit skin showing on her sides. The pants would be form fitting and protective. They came with what looked like a thin utility belt to hold weapons around her waist with. The belt fastened with a gorgeous silver buckle in the shape of the mythical figure; it was a Chimera. Malcolm watched Mac blanch when she noticed it.

There were also strong and sturdy boots with a slight heel that came with the outfit, along some gauntlets for her arms as well. They would go from her wrist to her elbow in a crisscross pattern. Upper arms bands made of silver with some kind of fancy script were included too. Malcolm noticed that the transgenic was in awe of Wolachea's gift. Trip looked at Malcolm in wonder. Things were starting to turn sideways on Malcolm, and Trip too. This couldn't be happening; it was too much to believe for the well-grounded tactical officer.

It took Mac only a few moments to change out of the repugnant Vorloren super soldier uniform and into the exotic Lasiterian garb. It fit her perfectly, like it was made exactly for her. Trip and Malcolm both did a double take as Mac appeared before them again. She looked fabulous, a real femme fatale. She had pulled her hair back again into a pony tail. The sais now rested in little holders on each side of the weapons' utility belt she wore, plus Wolachea had given her two phase pistols that she had holstered on the sides of the belt. Trip tried to shake himself, but he couldn't stop staring. Malcolm was also trying to control the direction his thoughts had decided to go as he gazed at the genetically engineered woman.

"Let's get going," Wolachea hollered from somewhere up the tunnel. "Lieutenant Reed, you're with me, and Commander Tucker should go with McKenna." Divide and conquer was definitely the way to go here. Malcolm was eager to get into the fight again, and make sure Hoshi was all right.

Mac quickly joined the group of Lasiterians waiting for her at the entrance to a different tunnel than Wolachea and his group had taken. Trip was close on her heels. A Lasiterian soldier handed Trip a set of pulse pistols to equip him with a set of weapons too. Trip nodded his thanks, and he saluted Malcolm as they took their separate paths.

* * *

Trip moved quickly behind Mac, his mind racing with strange thoughts. The newest revelations about Mac weighing heavily on him. As he watched her, his brain began to ponder a connection between Mac and his favorite horror movie character, Frankenstein. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to see the resemblance. The similarities were uncanny. Both were forced into existence in unnatural ways by men of science, wanting to improve the human race, and that had gone against the natural order of things when they brought their wildest imaginings to life. The man who had created the Frankenstein monster had the first name of Victor. That was the first name of the man who had created Mac. The Frankenstein monster had been pieced together from many different pieces of various dead people, making him a Chimera of sorts. Mac's DNA was spliced together from a myriad of sources and her dark side liked to be called the Chimera.

When the Frankenstein monster was first brought to life, he had been an innocent, like a child. He hadn't known right from wrong, or good from evil. He had started out with a gentle nature, only wanting to be loved and to belong. Because of the abandonment of his creator, and the way people misjudge him because of his grotesque appearance and treated him harshly and brutally, he became a killer. Being rejected by humankind he wanted nothing more than to get revenge for all his pain and suffering. Mac had been born with a good soul. She had been loved for a time, and then her father had been ripped away from her and ruthlessly murdered in front of her. Then she had been used by a government agency to do as they bid. She had been consumed by hatred and the thirst for revenge; she had become a killer.

The Frankenstein story ended tragically and violently. Mac was getting the chance to have a different, more optimistic ending to her story. She was choosing a different path than the one the Frankenstein monster had chosen. She had people who cared about her and saw her for what she really was. Not a monster, not a demon, but a dark angel, a savior of sorts. Trip couldn't help but smile. It was amazing how a little love, compassion, and understanding could make a world of difference in the formation of a person's life. They were underappreciated qualities, but qualities that had infinite power and influence. Trip rededicated himself to make sure Mac would get plenty of them to keep her on the right path.

It was very strange where one's mind could wander. His mind had become so active in contemplating all that had been going on, that it now couldn't help musing about and combining two of his favorite things. The chief engineer also wondered what T'Pol would think of his thoughts. He smiled to himself again. It felt good to think about the Vulcan woman. She tended to sober him up and remind him of what was important.

Trip loved T'Pol with all of his heart. She had made it clear, in time, she would come around to loving him too. Why he kept being tempted by Mac was beyond him. It was just a temptation that he would have to resist. He had meant what he said to Malcolm earlier; Mac was family, and Mac needed his friendship, not his longing for her feminine body. He had to stop those kinds of thoughts from getting the better of him. Besides, she was the Captain's woman; the woman his best friend was in love with. He strongly wished that he could feel something through his bond with T'Pol, some glimmer of cool logic, but it still didn't come to him. Trip prayed T'Pol was all right, and that he would see her again. Once this was all over, he was going to spend some serious one-on-one time with the Vulcan woman and help her through whatever it was that was holding her back. He wouldn't give up on her, just like he wouldn't give up on Mac.

* * *

Archer came back to the reality of his cell on the Vorloren battleship. He felt reenergized, rejuvenated, and reassured; Mac loved him and he loved her. She was going to follow her destiny and be the protector Fate or whatever powerful being had planned for her to be. He was also very aware that he needed to act and act now to help her succeed. Something was wrong among the Vorlorens, and he had to uncover it so the problem could be fixed. The Captain looked over and saw Amy, the temporal agent, beaming at him.

"I take it by the contented look on your face that you found the answers you were looking for?" she asked gently.

"At least some of them," he replied. "The ones that concern the woman I love."

Amy's smile widened at his words. It was nice to know that your ancestors really did care about one another. "Good," she said, and then turned serious again. "Since this is the first time, in a while, that you've been rational," she said and smirked at him, "you probably missed the part of the action where Hister decided to employ his new super weapon to annihilate what is left of the Lasiterians. He and Romdel's super soldier army is not what they expected, and without the use of the cybernetic implant, the super soldiers just aren't as superior as they thought they would be. They are formidable, but not unbeatable.

"Romdel and Hister were too hurried in their attempt at their design and activation in the field. They didn't have Mac's full DNA profile to work with at the time either. Plus, human and Vorloren DNA are not very compatible it would seem. Hister apparently decided to have a back up plan in place. We need to stop Hister from actually using his new super weapon. I have to confirm, for history's sake, that he actually built it and tried to use it. Once I have recorded of proof of that, we must destroy it and capture Hister."

Archer looked at her for a moment in deep contemplation. He was starting to make the connections he needed to make. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. Now that he could think clearly again, as the young temporal agent had noted, the answers were obvious. "Hister isn't really a Vorloren is he?" He paused when he saw Amy's face show her surprise at his deduction. "He's from another faction in the future trying to change history to dominate time, just like Vosk tried to do, isn't he?" His gut feelings had been right all along; he was sure of it.

"Your assumption would be correct, Jon," Amy admitted to him, but offered no further information.

"Who is he really?" Archer demanded now. "I need to know who the hell I am dealing with."

Amy broke her eye contact and stood up. She paced to the front of the small prison and leaned against the bars, facing away from the Captain. Finally, she spoke. "His species is called the Gorn," she explained. "I wasn't sure until just a little while ago that it was Hister that the Gorn had chosen to disguise himself as. We've been trying for quite a while now to figure out who didn't fit in the picture here. We knew the Gorn was here, but not whom he was hiding behind."

"The Gorn?" the Captain repeated. "I have heard that name somewhere before," he paused, trying to place where he had actually heard of that species. It didn't take long to come to him. "Someone from the Orion Syndicate mentioned trading with the Gorn Hegemony. That they made good liquor, but that they were a difficult species to get along with."

"You have an excellent memory, Jon," Amy told him, shaking her head in amazement. "You're correct again."

Archer stood up and walked to stand beside her. "I try to remember who potential hostile species are, as to not run into them unprepared or at all."

Amy laughed at his statement and turned to face him again. "You are an interesting character, Jon. I'll give you that." She stared at him of a long time before she spoke again; trying to deal with the fact that she was really talking to him; that he was real and in front of her. He was her hero; that she was here to help him was mind-boggling to say the least. "At some time far in the future, the Gorn decide to mess around with the possibility of time travel. They seem like a very barbaric race on the outside, looking like giant reptiles, but they are extremely intelligent and resourceful. The Gorn are very territorial. They do not react well to any incursion into their space, or what they think is their space. They constantly move in and claim new territory regardless if it's already occupied by others."

"And what does this Gorn want?" the Captain asked her. "Why is he trying to eradicate the Lasiterians? What are they to him?"

Amy broke her eye contact again. She wasn't sure how much she could tell him. She desperately wanted to tell him everything, but that was not allowed. She could get in big trouble if she told him too much. She finally settled with part of the truth. "The Lasiterians are key in creating the Temporal Accords and setting up the group I represent to police the timeline. Because of what is happening now, the Lasiterians realize how dangerous rogue time travelers can be. They convince many good and noble species to set up a way to protect the past and still allow for people to study it up close and personal."

"So this Gorn," Archer stopped, realizing he didn't know its name.

"Solin," Amy helpfully supplied for him.

"So this Gorn, Solin, wants to wipe out the Lasiterians before they can become instrumental in setting up the rules of time travel? He's been the one that has kept the civil war going, sending out all the propaganda, and using the Vorlorens' fears and prejudices for his own purposes?" It was more of a question than a statement, for now it was the Captain's turn to shake his head in amazement.

Amy walked away from Archer again. It was getting hard to be so close to him. "Yup," she replied. "He had the father of the current High Monarch assassinated. Then he used his mind-manipulating drugs on his son and took over the government completely. The problem is we had to allow him to come to the past and at least begin to try and change it, so that the Lasiterians would be inspired to design the Temporal Accords in the first place. But even by allowing him to do that made it hard to stop it from spiraling out of control. Then the Suliban showed up with their own agenda and seriously hampered our ability to make sure things turned out the right way. Your involvement has not been what it originally should have been. Somehow the Suliban found a way to pull you in way too early." She stopped herself as she realized she was telling him too much.

"All the messages Starfleet Intelligence intercepted were planted," Archer said in understanding. Silik had lied to him again. He claimed that he and his people were just trying to put things right. In their own minds they might have been, but in the process they had only added to the confusion.

Amy turned back to him once again, a look of confusion creasing her lovely face. "What messages?" she asked in a quiet voice.

The Captain stepped closer to her again. "You mean you didn't know about them?" he questioned, trying to get her to look at him.

"No," she whispered, horrified that this had slipped passed her and her people, "we didn't." _Damn the Suliban and their benefactor!_

Archer elaborated for her. "Starfleet Intelligence had been monitoring the last known position of the Cabal's Helix, just to keep their eyes open. Some way SI was able to pick up and decipher three key transmissions from the Cabal to an unknown source. Each message hinted at using the Vorloren system as a base to interfere with the interspecies alliance that Earth has been trying to organize and establish. Starfleet Command and the Vulcan High Command grew very worried about this and sent me and my crew to investigate what was really going on. Finding Mac was totally unexpected."

"That I do not doubt," the young temporal agent fumed. "Future Guy is responsible for that. The Vorlorens were never originally supposed to find her. You weren't supposed to meet her through them." Amy then looked at Archer in alarm. She had just said too much. She could have smacked herself. In her anger she had let more than she should have slip out.

"What?" the Captain said, coming to the knowledge that Amy knew a lot more than she was letting on. "Are you saying that Mac and I were always supposed to meet, but just not because of the Vorlorens?" He was totally shocked. Mac was fated to be part of his life. It was not just the Vorlorens or the Suliban and their benefactor's scheming. He and Mac were meant to find each other; this fact floored Archer. He couldn't quite grasp it all. "And Silik lied about trying to protect history. He and his people are trying to change it to suit themselves."

Amy back away from Archer, her hand over her mouth. She tried frantically to get out of the cell and out of the Captain's presence, completely embarrassed. He was not about to let her escape him, until he got his answers. He was so sick of being the last one to know about his own life. Everyone around him seemed to know what was going on, _but_ him.

"Oh, no you don't, little one," he told her. In a few quick strides he was on her and grabbed her upper arms forcefully. "You aren't going anywhere. You are going to tell me what the hell is going on here." His voice was harsh and angry. He actually shook her a little bit.

Archer thought Amy was going to fight him, but instead she sagged in his grip. She wouldn't look at him. Her head was down, so he couldn't see her face, but he swore she was sniffling. The Captain eased up on his grip. _Am I hurting her? Did I really scared her that badly? I didn't mean to. _He took one hand and gently lifted her chin so he could see her face. Bright, wet tears were falling down her cheeks. She had started to shake. He let go of her completely, and then hugged her to him. He felt like he had just been unfairly mean to a little sister or his mother. It was weirding him out.

"I'm sorry, Amy. It's okay. I didn't mean to hurt you or scare you, sweetheart," he cooed to her.

This apology made her sob harder. Archer didn't know what to do; this was not the reaction he had been expecting. Then a muffled reply came from somewhere against his chest. "You didn't hurt me," she said shakily. "I want to tell you everything so badly, Jonny," there was that use of his nickname again, "but I can't. I would never be able to travel back in time again if I did. But I don't want you to hate me; you mean too much to me."

The admission hit Archer like a punch in the gut. This young woman was suffering from hero worship, and he was acting like an ass. Daniels had displayed a little bit of the same hero worship. Somehow, the people in the future had made him out to be larger than life. He was just Jonathan Archer; he didn't deserve any special treatment or to be so well thought of. That people in the future held him up on such a high pedestal, really unnerved him; he was just one man, nothing special.

"All right, I understand," he whispered to her softly. "Tell me what you can. I won't press you. I just hate being in the dark about my own life. It's really quite terrifying to tell you the truth. And I could never hate you, Amy. You remind me too much of my mother. That's probably why they picked you to contact me. They knew I'd be able relate to you." But another thought had begun to develop in his mind. It was one that seemed totally impossible, but the more he worked it out and placed all the facts he'd learned in context, it made the most sense. He just needed a little bit more data to confirm his suspicions.

He felt Amy stiffen in his arms at his comment. He received part of his data from her reaction. Then she relaxed and the weeping lessened. He felt her tremble as she tried to steady her shuddery breathing. She pulled back and finally looked at him. "I really would like to be able to spill my guts to you, but I am forbidden to that," she said with a raspy voice. "Let me just say, that you and Mac, in all the recorded history we have, are supposed to meet. I'm just sorry it was under these circumstances."

"Fair enough." Archer wasn't happy, but he would have to settle for her answer. He was watching her face very closely now, watching for a sign that would prove his hypothesis correct.

"We need to stop Solin from using his weapon of, literally, mass destruction," Amy said, trying to pull herself together. She was now mortified that she had gone to pieces on him; she just admired him so much. The temporal agent did not want a part of her family tree to be disappointed in her or think her a horrible person. "He calls it the Atomizer, because it breaks down all matter at the atomic level, completely destroying everything its ray comes into contact with. Molecules lose their cohesion and can't hold together. Electrons and protons just scatter or dissolve. Matter actually comes apart at the submolecular level. Before he had you thrown in the brig, he ordered Romdel to prepare it for deployment. We have to get down to the planet and disable it. If not, the Lasiterians really will be exterminated." Having to explain some of the technical information about the Gorn's weapon helped bring her a measure of control and composure.

"We have to go down to the planet?" he queried. The thought was not unpleasant to him. It meant he would be able to see Mac that much sooner. Being away from her was still a very difficult situation to deal with.

"I'm afraid so," Amy informed him, finally looking him in the eye again. "The weapon has to be land based. It's too large and complex to try and incorporate it into the design of a Vorloren battleship. Besides, its technology isn't compatible with that of the Vorlorens. He would have had to find another way to transport and assemble the weapon. The Gorn will deploy it on the ground. He will also have to find a way to take out the Lasiterians deflector shield. It wouldn't completely stop the weapon, but it would impede its effectiveness down to a level that Solin would find unacceptable."

"I'm with you," Archer said as he continued to hold her. "I'll help you in anyway I can. Your mission's important, you're important. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise. You have a lot of pressure on you, and I don't need to add to it."

Amy hugged him back with all her might. "Thank you, Jon. I'm sorry I and my people have to keep interfering in your life. It's not fair to you, but you're the pioneer in human space exploration. You're responsible for a lot of firsts. It goes with the territory," Amy told him, enjoying being close to him. It was like being hugged by her father.

"I guess you're right," Archer chuckled. "I never looked at it that way before. What are going to do about him?" he then asked, thumbing at Silik locked in the next cell, still unconscious. "We can't just leave him here, but he can't know about you. That would ruin everything you're trying to accomplish."

Now it was Amy's turn to know that the Captain was right. "I don't think we can convince him to help," she said without much hope. "His benefactor's meddling is one of the reasons why things are so messed up."

"Can you disguise yourself again, as Ashoria, and tell him what you've discovered? Use what we know to our advantage. Turn it around so we can trick him into helping us. Silik could be helpful, but I still don't completely trust that two-timing alien," Archer said jokingly, and then became serious again. "I don't think the Suliban really want to see the Lasiterians slaughtered, do you? Or maybe it would lift Future Guy's restrictions on time travel?" he commented, thinking that might be the ulterior motive behind the Suliban's benefactor's actions.

"No, his restrictions are of a technological nature," Amy replied. "The Suliban probably want Solin's time travel technology so that they can give it to their benefactor. Then he could travel through time personally. Maybe I could get Silik to believe that I've found it and make him think we were going to retrieve it, while in reality we would be going after the Atomizer. He wouldn't object to rescuing you either. You're a big part of his assignment anyway."

"Great," Archer said sarcastically. "Let's wake him up then and get this show on the road. Do you think we can get off this ship without getting caught?"

"Yes, I think we can manage that," Amy said and finally gave him her full, charming smile. And there it was; his last piece of proof. That smile could have been Mac's.

He'd now seen expressions that reminded him of his mother, and he had seen looks on her face that mirrored Mac's almost perfectly. And her eyes, how could he not see that they were exactly like his? Amy was his and Mac's descendant. She had to be, the evidence was all there right in front of him. That's why she reminder him of his mother or a little sister, and at times Mac. They had to be genetically related. Daniels had sent a very distant and future relative to help him this time. Probably to tame his wrath and to also give him hope. Daniels would know that Archer would figure it all out. The Captain was observant, when in his right mind, and he was good at solving puzzles, if given enough clues to follow.

This realization had his head spinning. It meant that he and Mac would someday have children. He had always wondered what kind of father he would make, but he never seriously believed that it would happen. Archer feared that his side of the Archer line would end with him; evidently it didn't. This delighted him, but it also scared the shit out of him. _Could I really be responsible for shaping and molding the lives of innocent children? And when is this miraculous event supposed to happen? Will there be more than one child?_

Finally, the purpose of Silik's voyeurism hit Archer. Why he just understood it now, made him feel very dim-witted. The main purpose of mating, or sexual relations between a man and a woman, a male and a female, was to perpetuate the species. Silik's benefactor wanted recorded evidence of the fact that the Captain and Mac were actively intimate. He needed to know that Mac was in the process of attempting to conceive a child. The strong pull and overwhelming feelings of attraction Archer had towards Mac had been not only to strength the bond between them, but a literal mating drive, a drive to have a child.

This began to worry the Captain and brought forth another question. _Why was Future Guy interest in a child that he and Mac might produce, or would produce? _A sick feeling began to build in Archer's gut. He was beginning to fear that Future Guy might want to wipe out the Captain and Mac's descendants to rid him of his competition in the Temporal Cold War. Or worse still, one day coerce them into helping him to try and control time travel. He wouldn't want to see Amy switch sides; that would be horrible.

"Between Suliban technology and some of my own, I think it should be a piece of cake," Amy finished. Archer had a sneaking suspicion that he had missed some of what she had been saying.

"We need to come up with a good excuse as to why Silik lost consciousness," the Captain stated the obvious, trying to appear nonchalant. He didn't want Amy to know he knew who she possibly could be, or where his thoughts had just been.

"Let's pick a fight with the guards outside and just tell him he got phased by one of them," Amy said with great enthusiasm.

Archer couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of her idea. "Okay," he said through his chuckling. "Go for it. Although, you might want to drag his ass out of the cell he's in, and give me a weapon, just to be more convincing."

"I like how you think, Jonny. I really do," Amy said as she giggled in response to his comment. She liked his sense of humor. Then with total seriousness she said, "Let's do this."

TBC

**Okay, what do you think? Was this chapter any good? How do you think it is all going to turn out? Any guesses????**


	38. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For language and violent battle scenes. If you don't like a little blood and gore, then this chapter is not for you. Just wanted to warn you all.**

**A/N: This update is late in coming and I'm sorry for that. Hopefully, this chapter was worth the long wait. This is an action-packed chapter, trying to start to bring things to a head in the next little while. I have three chapters left after this one. Things are finally starting to happen in this chapter to move toward a climatic ending. Let me know how I did with the actions scenes and some of the creative ways I tried to solve the heroes' dilemmas. Again, the violence in the battle scenes is not just for show, it all has purpose and meaning or I wouldn't write it the way I did. Hope all my readers like it and have fun with it. I tried to make it move fast and be exciting.**

**Thanks to LadyRainbow for coming through for me again, despite her hectic life. Her beta work is worth the wait too. :) **

**Chapter 37**

T'Pol knew she was in trouble. Malan had been joined by some colleagues, and they were not happy with T'Pol's presence, nor with the fact that the High Monarch was missing. Two more of the High Monarch's elite, personal guards were now threatening to cause an uproar. "You cannot let them take our king!" shouted one burly, red-haired man. _Toslane_, T'Pol recalled. "How can you trust this alien intruder!?"

"Calm down, Toslane," Malan tried to reason with his fellow guardsman. "I'm as skeptical as you, but Aster has vouched for them. We need to at least give them a chance to prove themselves." T'Pol raised an eyebrow at Malan's defense of her and Phlox. "And keep your voice down. We can't afford to alert any of the guard loyal to Hister and Romdel."

The large and brutish Vorloren would not listen. "She's a Vulcan! A _Vulcan_, Malan! You know what kind of help _they _can offer. They are good at lies and deceit. They helped the Lasiterians ambush us. They can't be trusted!"

"I hate to agree with Toslane, but I don't like the situation either, Malan," a tall and thick Vorloren with short, brownish hair spoke up.

"Larden," Malan acknowledged.

T'Pol decided to speak. "We are not here to take your king away from you. We are trying to rid him of Hister's mind control. We are trying to help. If we do not succeed we will return your king and leave."

"The words of a deceiver!" Toslane exclaimed.

"Why would I allow myself to remain here, if we were going to kidnap him or take him hostage?" T'Pol questioned, trying to hide her offense and irritation; Trip's influence again, no doubt. T'Pol could just picture him "losin' his cool" as he called it. "It would not be logical. Give myself, and those I serve with, some time. We may be able to free your king and help stop more senseless bloodshed."

Larden looked T'Pol over with a cold gaze. "Many have promised us that before. None have ever been true to their word. Your people especially."

Malan jumped back in. "Commander T'Pol has made it clear, and has Aster, that she does not represent her people in this matter. She is a representative of the people of Earth, humans. She speaks for Captain Archer."

"And where is this Captain Archer?" Toslane demanded. "I don't see him. Why should I believe any of this?" He had gotten into T'Pol's face now. The invasion of her personal space was very unwelcome to the Vulcan woman, her face and mouth twisting downward in discomfort. T'Pol felt herself wince and grimace in an involuntary action.

In a typical Vulcan manner, however, very stoic and calm, she said, "Because it is the truth."

Toslane was about to come back at her with another argument, when the High Monarch's voice stopped him cold. "You should trust them because they have been true to their word, Toslane. They _are_ here to help us."

Toslane gaped at his king, as did Malan and Larden. T'Pol turned to see that the Vorloren king and Chief Suran, along with Phlox and Joasal, had come out of the king's bedroom. Presumably, they had transported down from _Enterprise_ in secret.

"Your Highness," said Malan as he bowed and snapped to attention. It didn't take long for Toslane and Larden to do the same. As T'Pol took in the High Monarch, she noticed the difference in him right away. He stood straight and tall, his eyes seemed brighter, and his whole demeanor was full of life.

"I take it you were successful, Doctor?" she asked of Phlox. It had been nearly four hours since he and his patient had beamed up to the _Enterprise_. The battle was still raging, but the Lasiterians were slowly losing strength.

"I'm happy to report that I was," Phlox replied and smiled his ridiculously wide grin. "The solution was sitting right in front of me the whole time. It just took a little trial and error to figure it out."

The High Monarch walked over to T'Pol, took her hand, and brought it to his lips. They felt cool against her warm skin, and she had to resist the sudden urge to pull away from him. The gesture was far too intimate for a Vulcan to tolerate. Then he spoke, "I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude, milady. Whatever I can do to repay you, I will gladly do." He still held her hand as he continued. "Aster has informed me of all that has transpired up to the present time. He told me what Hister and Romdel have done to my people, while they controlled me. I cannot believe what I have let them do. You and your wonderful doctor have rescued me, even though I didn't know I needed it."

"How?" was all T'Pol could get out as her eyes met the king's, which were now alive with a warm glow.

Phlox was more than happy to answer her. "We have our remarkable transgenic to thank, actually," he informed the Vulcan woman.

"McKenna?" T'Pol was surprised. She raised both eyebrows as she slowly retracted her hand from the High Monarch's grip.

"Yes, McKenna," Phlox said cheerfully. "Do you know any other transgenics?" At T'Pol's glare, Phlox stopped his teasing. "It was her virus enhanced blood that solved our problem. The Gen Virus I sampled from McKenna's blood is stubborn, and it seems most intelligent for a virus. It can recognize threats and neutralize them by restructuring or recombining itself."

T'Pol caught on to what Phlox was saying. "It mutates to adapt, allowing it to protect itself and its host."

"Exactly," Phlox replied. "McKenna said that the Gen Virus' original purpose was to regenerate dead or dying cells, make them live again or repair themselves. Somehow when it was tested on humans, it mutated in a most negative way, killing its host and reanimating the dead corpse. But McKenna's DNA is so much more complex and virulent that it mutated the virus back to its designed capabilities. It saw the chemicals in the drug that Hister was using to make the High Monarch compliant to his wishes as a threat to itself. I was able to synthesize just enough of McKenna's version of the Gen Virus to use it to eradicate the drugs and chemicals from the High Monarch systems. And it worked perfectly."

Malan was extremely concerned about the talk of viruses. "And what of the virus now? Is our king going to get sick and die because of this?"

"There is no need to worry," Phlox assured the Vorloren guardsman. "I used a very small amount and McKenna's body had all ready tamed the virus to act as a healing substance, not a disease causing agent. The worst side effect your king will have now is an extremely powerful immune system. And maybe an immunity to all toxins and poisons," the good doctor explained.

"What about the regenerative properties? Will the king develop those as well? Could he heal life threatening injuries, like Commander Tucker?" Aster interrupted with a multitude of questions himself.

Phlox grew thoughtful for a moment, and then said, much to Chief Suran disappointment, "I don't think he was exposed to enough of the MGV for it to have that kind of effect, but he will most likely live a long and healthy life. And don't worry he's not a carrier of the virus, just like McKenna's not. The virus loses its contagiousness once McKenna's genome has had its way with it."

"MGV, Doctor?" T'Pol queried.

Phlox smiled happily again. "McKnight's Gen Virus," he stated, and then expounded further. "I named it after the transgenic to differentiate between the version that McKenna has and the original Gen Virus."

T'Pol just shook her head at Phlox's antics; he always had a way with words. Then another question sprang to mind. "Will the Gen Virus running through Mac's veins be enough to help her overcome whatever Hister has done to her?"

"Well, it helped the first time, when Romdel exposed her to the drug that tried to give control over to McKenna's dark side," Phlox commented. His smiled suddenly faded.

"What is it, Phlox? What is wrong?" T'Pol wondered why the change in Phlox's facial expression.

The doctor was now deeply frowning. "I just had a uncharacteristically negative thought," he explained. "Whatever drug or combination of drugs Hister used on McKenna, the second time sounded much more potent and powerful than what was used the first time." He was basing this on what Kajine had reported from Silik's account. "The Gen Virus that McKenna has would, I think, be strong enough to overcome the foreign and toxic chemicals, but the price might be very high. It would have to really amplify itself and dramatically reconstitute itself to compensate for the increased influence of the stronger drugs."

"You mean it would have to do some serious mutating to fight the battle against the more formidable drugs Hister has created," Chief Suran said, coming back into the conversation.

"Yes," Phlox said simply.

"What does that mean, Doctor?" T'Pol inquired, but she already had a hypothesis, and she didn't like where it was leading her.

Phlox sighed before he answered the Vulcan and the Vorlorens. "I do not know. It could cause her DNA to mutate. It could change her biochemistry. There are a number of things it _could_ do."

"But she could break free of Hister's control, just as you helped me to do using a portion of the virus from her blood?" the Vorloren king now asked.

"I would give it very high odds for success," Phlox replied.

The High Monarch looked back to T'Pol. "I need to get to where the battle is. I need to show my people that I am still their king. I will order them to stop their attack on the Lasiterians, but I don't know how to halt the super soldier attack that Hister and Romdel have set in motion. That is why I asked about the transgenic woman. If she could deal with them, I can, hopefully, save the rest of the situation."

"So you don't approve of the actions that Hister and Romdel have taken?" T'Pol was extremely relieved as far as a Vulcan would allow herself to be.

"I don't agree with the Lasiterians on many positions, but I don't believe in genocide, Commander T'Pol," the High Monarch said defensively. "In fact, my father was ready, right before he died, to make peace with them. It was his dream, his fondest wish to stop this absurd war, to end the bloodshed and violence."

Phlox shook his head sadly. "That's why Hister assassinated him and took over. Your father was going to do the exact opposite of what he wanted to have happen."

"And I intend to fulfill my father's aspirations," the High Monarch's voice was full of a firm determination. "I will end this conflict."

Toslane now spoke up. "But your Majesty, how can you truly trust these people? We know little or nothing about them. For all we know this Captain Archer has been sent to assassinate you. Hister and Romdel, along with their followers, maybe using them as agents against you, finding you no longer necessary to their plans."

T'Pol thought Toslane's words held both some logic and some irrationality. It would be logical if Captain Archer was an evil man, devoid of any morals or conscience, but it was irrational because he obviously didn't know Captain Archer at all and seemed to take a very cynical view of life. Not that she blamed the guardsmen. More often than not, others were out for what they could gain for themselves and not what they could do for other people. It was unfortunate, but true.

"I have met Captain Archer and many of his crewmen," Aster interjected. "I have been able to observe them for almost two weeks. They are trustworthy allies. They mean what they say. They want to help us and are risking everything to do so."

"We only have your word, Aster," Toslane's voice was starting to rise again. He seemed to be backing up, moving towards the door that led out of the room. "And what is the weight of the word of someone who has been as publicly disgraced as you? Maybe you are traitorous as well."

Larden saw what his fellow guardsman was doing. "You have to admit, Toslane, these aliens have cured our king. Why would they go to all that effort to simply kill him?" The tall man advanced toward the big, burly one, hoping to get to him before he bolted from the room.

"How do we know that they aren't controlling him now?" Toslane asked in a panicked voice. He was ready to make a run for it. He had to alert the rest of the guard. Hister would not be pleased if these aliens got away. _How in Iolianus' Sky had they undone Hister's grand work?_

The Vorloren king rushed forward with startling speed. He was much smaller in comparison to Toslane's hulking form, but it did not matter. The skill with which he delivered the blow to the guardsman's neck had to have taken years of training. Toslane folded like a lawn chair, falling hard and fast to the ground.

"_You _are the traitor, Toslane. _You _have been working with Hister this whole time. _You_ who have been spying on your colleagues, letting Hister know ever move they made. That is why no one has dared to help before know. You have betrayed your people. You have let a madman destroy us." The High Monarch was seething with rage. All his memories of the past sixteen years finally bursting to the surface. It was like someone else had lived his life for him. "I should kill you where you lie, but then I would be no better than you." Another blow struck Toslane, this time it was a punch to the face. The guardsman was knocked unconscious at his king's feet.

Malan had drawn his weapon, but was pointing it at the ground. "It is nice to know that you still remember your self-defense lessons, Sire."

"I guess I did," the king said and smiled, lighting up his whole face. T'Pol thought it made him look like little boy, even though he was a grown man.

"We need to get out of here before anymore of those loyal to Hister and Romdel figure out what is going on here," Chief Suran announced to those around him. "We need to get the High Monarch to the battlefield."

"Agreed," said T'Pol. "Are you sure you want to go, your Highness?" she then asked the High Monarch respectfully.

"Call me Philemon, T'Pol," he requested as he gazed at the Vulcan beauty. "You are not one of my subjects."

T'Pol was taken aback by the king's lack of formality with her. "As you wish, Philemon," she said it awkwardly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have never been surer of anything in my entire life," he spoke with passion. "I'm ready to do what my father envisioned doing so long ago."

T'Pol nodded her agreement. She unzipped a pocket on the left sleeve of her salmon colored uniform; inside was her communicator. "Is it safe to contact _Enterprise_?" she asked this of Chief Suran. He looked to Malan and Joasal. They nodded their okay. T'Pol whipped the communicator open and let Major Rollins retrieve them with the transporter.

* * *

Mac felt her feral senses kick in, her enhanced sight operating in the low light of the tunnel leading down to the main Lasiterian commander center. She could see everything perfectly with crystal clarity. Night vision, along with a hawk's eyesight, allowed her to make out all she saw: from the hewn rock face of the walls, smooth and marbled with different layers of rock to the detailed design of the Lasiterian pulse rifles, small and compact with two barrels.

Her group had traveled a route of tunnels to come out above the commander center. Wolachea's group would come up from below their target. The transgenic allowed the Chimera to slide into place, along with her rational mind. They were stronger and faster together. She had turned into a hunter, engaging her enhanced hearing to scope out what was happening below.

Muffled explosions, pulse weapons fire, equipment breaking, glass shattering, people screaming, the stuttering of varying heartbeats, the thump of many footfalls, the rapid breathing of exertion, the roar of fire, and the hiss of steam. So many sounds made it hard to assess the situation, but Mac did just that. The Vorloren super soldiers had made it into the command center, crashing through the wall of windows that gave a breathtaking view of the entire canyon and throwing concussion grenades ahead of their entrance. Lasiterians were firing their weapons back at the intruders. Computers and electronics were victims of phased energy pulses and the explosive devices as they started fires. The fire suppression measures were coming on line to fight the fires. People were fighting and dying.

The genetically engineered woman could smell the strong ammonia scent of the Vorlorens, along with the honeysuckle smell of the Lasiterians. She caught the whiff of burning flesh, acrid smoke, thick ash, putrid sulfur, sweet blood, and rank sweat. She caught the sage scent of Hoshi and the citrus smell of Travis. The _Enterprise_ crewmembers were here, and they were in danger. Mac knew she had to hurry; the command center would be overwhelmed in minutes. Despite her best efforts, Mac felt a shiver of pleasure and delight to be going into battle. She itched to get into the fray, but this time it would be different. This time she would be defending the good guys and not killing for the bad guys.

She had found the Vorloren super soldiers' weaknesses. They were truly like robots; they didn't know how to think independently of their training and programming. They failed to improvise, following a script, and if a move or strategy was not in that script, they couldn't adapt. The Vorloren super soldiers had no personality, no individualism, and no identity. Mac wanted to put them out of their misery. They couldn't really exist, not in the real sense of the word. They had been created as a tool, like a machine to do a certain type of work, and then that was it. Hister and Romdel had hurried their development along too quickly to make them anything more than a bio-weapon. They weren't genuinely sentient beings.

Mac hated that they had been patterned after her, mixing Vorloren DNA and chromosomes around in unnatural ways. She had researched their design, and they did have various cocktails of different animal DNA, but animals indigenous to the Vorloren system. It increased their fighting power, but caused them other problems.

They felt no pain and had no emotion. For an increase in strength and agility, they lost the capability of how to use them without being told what to do. Their hearts pumped faster, but the increased speed caused them to eventually suffer strokes. The chemicals in their brains were even more unbalanced than Mac's. They had some serious defects in how their brains were wired; if it weren't for the ingrained training and programming, they would be little more than animals. By speeding up their growth rate to make them mature to adulthood faster, they lost the prime of their life. They lived a matter of months once they reached maturity.

Mac had also discovered that they all seemed to have a sweet spot that would kill them instantly when enough force was applied to it. It was at the base of their skull, right where the brain stem met with the spinal cord. The muscles and bone surrounding it was weaker than usual, not fully protected. Another side effect from the rapid growth that was thrust upon them. When Mac had been the Chimera, she had killed eight of them after sparing with them to feel them out, that was then she had found their sweet spot.

Trip was right at Mac's side. She could smell his bayou scent, hear his steady heartbeat and rushed breath, see his masculine form in all its detail. He had a grim set to his face, his jaw held tight. His lake blue eyes glimmered in Mac's vision, a very stormy sea. "We ready?" he drawled, a sign of his apprehension and anticipation. The transgenic noticed his accent became thicker the more intense his emotions were.

His water colored eyes met her wolfen amber ones. A strange and empowering look passed between them. Her pack mate was with her until the end; it comforted her. She was glad she would have someone like Trip at her back. She had never had anyone she trusted as much as she did him, go into battle with her before. He would not let her down. The chief engineer could feel Mac's energy, and it was contagious. He was aching to get into the fight now. It felt right to follow her into battle; they would do this together.

"Yeah, let's move," she announced and signaled to the Lasiterians to take their positions and move down into the command center.

* * *

Hoshi and Travis were in the middle of a chaotic melee. Weapons fire was everywhere; explosions went off all around and shrapnel and debris rained all over them. Fires broke out in several places as equipment that was blown to pieces flew through the air, sparking and smoking. The communications officer was firing her phase pistol as much as possible, using the tight, controlled movements Malcolm had taught her. Through the extra training he had given her, her aim had dramatically improved. She hit the Vorloren super soldiers more than she missed them, but it took an awful lot to bring one down, even with the phase pistol up to full power.

The Vorloren super soldiers were pouring through the opening they had smashed into existence to allow them entrance into the command center. Hoshi had watched in horror as Lasiterians fired at them and not many of them fell. Some had extremities blown off, but still they came. Some had gaping holes in the chests or abdomens, but they still didn't go down. Head shots seemed to be the only sure way to stop them, but their helmets seemed to offer them some protection from that strategy. The Lasiterians themselves had portable, personal shields, modeled after their larger deflector shield, but the Vorloren short swords slid right on through them. Again, the more primitive weapon was able to overcome the advanced technology; a tragic defect. Some super soldiers seemed to know where the power sources for the shields were and shot there first, and then shot the now defenseless Lasiterian.

Travis had taken a defensive position with a group of Lasiterians to protect the main deflector shield control panel. He was firing a Lasiterian, double-barreled pulse rifle, mowing down as many of the Vorloren super soldiers as he could. The Vorlorens were advancing way too fast and furiously, and Travis and his comrades would not be able to hold out for very much longer.

All of a sudden from two hidden entrances came what Hoshi had been praying for. She first saw Malcolm and a group of Lasiterians storm into the command center from somewhere down below it. Then she saw Mac and Trip, along with another group of Lasiterians burst in from somewhere up above the command center. Reinforcements had come; the cavalry was here. It was nothing short of a miracle in Hoshi's mind.

Mac had sensed Reed and Wolachea's group's arrival and timed her assault to coincide with theirs simultaneously. She rushed forward with her sais out. Time seemed to slow down for her, at the least the Vorloren super soldiers' movements did. She could almost predict what moves they were going to make before they actually made them. She dodged their weapons fire and started in on them. The sais cut through their armor like it wasn't there, and then their flesh like a warm knife through butter. They didn't cry out as she sliced through them, severing arms, legs, and heads, but they did bleed and die.

Those using their short swords attacked her. They showed no recognition that they knew her, or remembered that she had been their leader at one time. Without the neuro implant signals, they had fallen back on what ever original programming they had been given by Hister, Romdel, and Manglin. They still had radio headsets to receive orders the old-fashioned way. She blocked their thrusts by trapping or catching the blades between the tsuba of her sais. Then she used the leverage to hold them in place as she twisted herself around kicking at those that were still trying to advance on her.

Next, she swiftly pulled her sais lose, spinning down into a crouch to slash at their legs, thrust up into their stomachs, and then through their necks. She parried as more blows came her way. She blocked each stroke deftly. It became a dance; thrust, parry, block, stroke, and on and on. Mac interspersed her sai fighting with various kicks, flips, and headbutts. She at times flipped the sais around and used the knuckle end of the sais to pummel her targets with. The human super soldier rolled over the back of a Vorloren, kicking two more in the face as she turned, to end up plunging her sais into two more on the other side of her catapult. Anytime she could, she aimed for the sweet spot to bring a Vorloren down as quickly as possible.

Through it all, she saw Hoshi desperately trying to fight off a group of Vorloren super soldiers, as she had taken cover behind a massive, overturned map display table. Mac was very aware that Hoshi was losing ground. The young woman was firing madly at her attackers, but not having much affect. "Aim for their necks!" Mac shouted at Hoshi. "They have a weak spot there!"

Hoshi appeared to have heard her. She started aiming at the Vorloren's necks. Her aim was a little off the first few times, but then she hit home. Her particle weapon's beam shot through the front of a Vorloren's throat to emerge back out about where the base of the skull was. The soldier toppled instantly, out of commission. Hoshi spared Mac a small smile of gratitude and went back to her task. She couldn't believe Mac was back on their side; it filled the young ensign with new hope.

Hoshi was not the only one who heard Mac's suggestion. Travis, Malcolm, Trip, and Wolachea began to aim for the throats of those they faced off with. The Vorlorens started dropping like wounded birds out of the sky. Other Lasiterians took up the advice and had similar success. The Lasiterians began to gain ground, pushing their enemy back. The new platoon adding the relief the command center personnel had so urgently needed.

Slashing back and forward in a wild blur, Mac was racking up quite a body count. She leaped up and at her prey, coming down hard with her blades across a Vorloren super soldier's chest. She sliced a nice diagonal line from shoulder to navel on one soldier, splitting him in a sideways half. Silver blood covered her weapons and her clothing. Strangely, her beast was not in utter ecstasy with the shedding of blood throughout the battle. It had a job to do; one that must be done swiftly and efficiently. Some many other lives depend on it.

The transgenic woman knew all her pack fighting with her were safe for the moment. She sensed Trip not far away, switching between firing his pulse pistol and hand-to-hand tactics as needed. At one point she knew that he had picked up a fallen Vorloren sword and was using it effectively. Lieutenant Reed was making his way over to strengthen Ensign Mayweather's position. He seemed to be a man in his element. He was controlled, precise, and damn good at getting the better of his enemy. Wolachea and his people were all over the place, taking out Vorlorens where they could. All was going well for the good guys.

That was when an abnormally huge Vorloren super soldier launched a handheld phase cannon right at the deflector control panel. Travis barely made it out of the path of the beam before it blew apart the entire wall behind him and the Lasiterians he was fighting with. Those right in the path of the beam were incinerated. Those just partially in the way had burning holes punched through their bodies. The control panel was gone, and a fiery mess left in its place. The deflector shield was no more, all its controls obliterated.

Reed reached Travis and pulled him behind another overturned map display table. The young ensign was still conscious, which was a good sign. He had taken a hard dive to avoid the high energy beam and had hit his head and part of his right side was scorched. "You okay, Travis?" Malcolm asked with great concern as he checked Mayweather over.

"I'm fine, sir," Travis answered a bit slowly. "I'm just a little dizzy, but otherwise I don't think I am hurt that badly."

Reed seemed to agree with him. "You'll have a goose egg on the back of your head, but I don't think you have a concussion. And it appears that only you uniform has become a little crispy, no skin or tissue underneath."

Mayweather did feel like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he also realized he was recovering quickly. "Where did you guys come from? Was Hoshi able to get a message off to you?" he questioned, the relief evident in his voice. His dark eyes searched out the Lieutenant's.

"Actually, it was Mac that seemed to sense that you needed help," Reed explained, not meeting Mayweather's intense gaze. "She said she heard Hoshi calling for help in her mind."

Travis looked askance at his superior. "What?" he whispered. "How is that possible? I thought she was on the Vorloren's side?"

"It's a long story, Ensign," Reed informed his friend. "Let's just say she's on our side now and may have some tricks up her sleeve we didn't know about before."

Mayweather still looked at Reed dubiously, but he accepted the curt explanation. "The Vorlorens just brought down the deflector shield. That panel behind me was what kept it functioning."

"Bollocks," Reed swore. "Now what do we do?"

As if in answer to his query, more green Vorloren pulse rifle fire came at them. Both men took better cover and proceeded to fire in response. "I guess we keep fighting back," was Mayweather's reply.

The human super soldier had engaged the colossal figure with the portable pulse cannon. He was a size or so bigger than the rest of his genetically created kin. His massive bulk was heavy and wide. Mac attacked him, and he struck her with one of his titanic forearms, knocking her back several meters. The impact of hitting the ground with such force dazed Mac for a moment. Pain was spreading through her face and upper body where the forearm strike had hit her. _Damn that had hurt._ This Vorloren super soldier must have been an abnormality. The one-in-a-million genetic mistake, but he was a powerful and useful mistake.

She got up quickly and faced him wearily again. He was focused completely on her. He saw her as the greatest threat and was determined to complete his objective by destroying her, she now being his target. Mac plunged a sai into the other titanic arm, up close to the shoulder. This move made him drop the portable pulse cannon. He didn't drop it out of pain, but literally because the sai cut through key muscles and tendons that allowed him to hold it. At least he was disarmed now, but his dangerousness was not truly decreased by much. _Did he have the same weakness the others did? _Mac would have to find out.

Circling him, the transgenic looked for an opening in his defenses. He rushed her with speed that was at odds with his size. Mac had little time to dodge his massive fists as they sailed past her, or they would have crushed in her face. He left his left side open to her as he missed, so she stabbed the other sai into the exposed area, in-between some of his ribs. The creature grunted and lashed out with his leg. It hit Mac in the gut, sending her flying again. All the breath went out of her, and her ribs and sternum cracked. The pain caused anger and rage to flare through her.

As her injuries healed, her fury grew. The huge Vorloren super soldier ripped her sais from his arm and side, threw them to the ground, and then advanced on Mac. Out of nowhere, Trip appeared, throwing himself upon the creature's back. He was trying to strike the Vorloren in the back of the neck with the short sword he had acquired. The colossal super soldier reached around and pulled Trip from his back with great ease. Holding the chief engineer with in his gigantic hands, he started to squeeze. Trip's face went red, and he cried out as he was being crushed.

Mac's fiery temper roared even stronger. She gazed darkly at the bulky figure hurting her pack mate who had been trying to come to her aid. She imagined the creature's beating heart, strong and steady in its hulky chest. Then she imagined it bursting, exploding inside that enormous chest. The Vorloren super soldier stiffened in front of her. He dropped Trip to the ground, where he landed with a heavy thump, gasping for air. Then the brute spasmed, trembling all over. It clutched at its expansive chest, silver blood running out of its mouth and down its chin. Finally, it collapsed in a massive heap, shaking the ground as it did.

A new, searing pain lanced through Mac's head. She cried out, falling to her knees, as she gripped her head in her hands. A few Vorloren super soldiers turned her way, ready to fire upon her. They were met instead by answering blue pulse energy from Lasiterian weapons fire. It stopped them in their tracks. Wolachea and a few of his men cleared the area around Mac. Trip, now recovered from his experience in constriction, was at her side.

"You okay?" he wanted to know.

Mac was gasping, shaking her head. "Maybe you shouldn't do that again, huh?" he suggested lightly. It had its effect; Mac smiled despite the pain in her head.

"Maybe you're right," she responded through clenched teeth.

"Can I ask whatcha did to him?" Trip questioned, still keeping his tone light.

The transgenic looked at him. His blue eyes were now almost black they were so dilated. That worried her. "I, uh… I think I burst his heart," she whispered. "Are you okay, Trip? Your eyes…," she trailed off.

"What about 'em?" he asked her confused.

"They look like Jonathan's do when he is having a bad reaction to me," she replied. "It's scaring me, Trip."

"They are?" he couldn't believe it. He felt fine, a little excited and energized from fighting perhaps. An adrenaline buzz was definitely coursing through him, but he didn't feel out of control or anything. "I feel okay. _I'm _scarin' _you_? I'm not the one who just killed a guy with psionics." He started rubbing her temples, trying to help ease her pain. The attraction he had to her was starting to rear its ugly head again.

"I just don't want anyone else to have to suffer because of me," her voice was so soft Trip had to strain to hear her.

Trip looked her in the eye. "I promise you I'm fine," he told her. "We need to get movin'. That brute took out the deflector shield control panel. We have to help Wolachea get to an auxiliary command center. He needs to access the battle situation reports and regroup his people."

"Okay," Mac said like she was far away and hadn't really heard what he had said.

"M-a-c?" Trip's drew her name out to try and get her focus back. "Now what?" he then hissed in frustration.

The human super soldier had felt the reactivation of the cybernetic implant still plugged into her brain. In all that had happened, she had forgotten to pull it out. For a terrifying moment she thought Hister would gain control of her mind again, but his power over her had been possible because of the drugs, not because of the implant. The device simply had made it easier for him to pour his poisonous words into her ear and convey the orders he knew she would obey because of her exposure to the drugs. Now she could hear Hister and Manglin issuing new orders to the Vorloren super soldiers.

Then it hit her. Hoshi must have been the one to jam up the communications between the implants. The communications officer must have found the correct frequency, and then used the Lasiterians equipment to freeze or interrupt the signals between the implants. Now that the equipment Hoshi had been using had been demolished, there was no longer any interference with the signals. This was not good. She sensed their collective mind forming again. They would gain cohesion and oneness once more. Very shortly they would be able to function all together with perfect coordination. She couldn't let that happen. With the deflector shield down, the Lasiterians were sitting ducks for the Vorloren fleet to pick off.

Mac was drawn to their collective mind. The neuro implant wanting her to be part of the whole. Maybe she could use this connection to her benefit. Do what she had originally planned to do, use the cybernetic neuro implant against the Vorloren soldiers. With her new abilities she could amplify her control over them and override their obedience to Hister's commands. She could make them turn on each other and destroy themselves. That would at least allow the Lasiterians to retreat and to try to escape before Solin unleashed whatever horrible surprise she just knew he was planning to use. Maybe she could even use the implant to pry into Hister or Solin's mind and find out just what that surprise was.

She needed to speak to Wolachea. The transgenic had the feeling that the Lasiterians had to have some kind of escape plan. They couldn't be as trapped in this canyon as they seemed. They were a people living in constant fear of extinction at the hands of a merciless enemy. Wolachea had to have some back up or contingency plan. Any people, who had painstakingly constructed the tunnel system she had been in, would have a way out of the canyon, some other hoax or ruse.

Soft lips on her own brought her out of her reverie. She became aware that Trip was gently kissing her. It was really just a brush of his lips against hers, but it was enough to bring her back to the here and now. A part of her longed to deepen the kiss, and let Trip ravish her. Something about him still held an attraction for her, especially the Chimera part of her, but it wasn't meant to be like this. Mac pulled back and away from him, resisting the temptation he so unfairly dangled in front of her. "What was that all about?" she quietly demanded.

Trip's excuse was lame, but he said it anyway. "I had to get your attention some way. Callin' your name didn't work. Shakin' ya didn't either. I got desperate." Some of what he said was true and some of it was because he just had to kiss her. It was foolish and impulsive, but he did it anyway. Maybe there _was _something happening to him again, a primitive rising within him.

"Sorry," she apologized for being far away in her thoughts, "I just realized that the neuro implants are up and running again. I had to make sure Solin couldn't pull me back under his control."

"You're okay? No desire to turn on the Lasiterians again?" he asked apprehensively now, the worry overriding the desire he felt.

Mac gently grabbed one of his hands and rubbed it against her face. She did it totally unconsciously. "Yes, I'm okay. And no, I don't want to hurt the Lasiterians," she whispered once more. "In fact, I think I now how to use this to our advantage."

Trip felt the yearning to touch more of her wash over him. He had to shake himself mentally and physically to fight it off. "We need to get movin'," he said instead of acting on the craving he was experiencing. He stood up and pulled Mac up to her feet too. "Do you feel okay enough to get out of here?"

"Yeah," she replied, reluctant to part from contact with him. These feelings didn't make any sense. Trip was not her mate, Jonathan was. Trip was her friend, her pack. _What's going on? _She tried to shove the impulses away for the moment. "I need to find Wolachea. I think he and the Lasiterians have a few more fancy tricks that we can use as well."

Trip just stared at her. "I won't ask. Let's get the others and get outta here."

It didn't take long to round up Hoshi, Reed, and Mayweather. Mac took out the remaining Vorloren super soldiers in their way, and they proceeded to make their way back to Wolachea and his gathering men. Hoshi hugged Mac for all she was worth and did the same to Malcolm briefly, before they retreated back into the tunnels. Wolachea's men had already evacuated the Lasiterian technicians that were still alive. As they fell back, a line of his men threw their version of concussion grenades at the remaining support beams of the command center's roof. The result was the entire collapse and cave-in of the structure. It probably took out a number of Vorlorens by burying them in the rubble and dirt, but not all; at least it would buy them time to get away.

Mac approached Wolachea as the organized retreat veered off into another section of tunnels heading down to the canyon floor. She told him about the reinstatement of the implants and what she thought she could do with them. Then she asked him if the canyon was all it appeared to be. Could the Vorloren super soldiers be trapped in it and could the Lasiterians escape what seemed like a dead end? The Lasiterian chief had been surprised by her questions, but pleased at her quick observations.

"You would be correct in your assumptions, milady," he answered her questions. "The canyon does not actually dead end, as you said. That is an illusion. When and if it became necessary for my people to truly evacuate, they would be able to raise a hidden gate and flee. At the same time at the other end of the canyon, what looks like the entrance can be sealed off by another massive gate that is hidden from any type scan. When that gate is in place and visible, it gives the canyon a deceiving look. Where now the canyon appears to have a southern entrance and a northern blocked end, it would then have a northern entrance with a southern blocked end." His explanation was exactly what Mac had pictured in her mind.

A person could actually pass through from one end of the canyon to the other, but the Lasiterians had rigged it to be closed off at each end as needed. This people's ingenuity never ceased to amazing the transgenic. They were prepared for all possibilities, and they were much wiser than they were given credit for. They took the defense of their existence very seriously. The Lasiterians wanted to live, and they had gone to extreme measure to insure that at least some of them could survive their enemies' eventual, brutal assault against them.

Mac had a few more questions for the Lasiterians' leader. A crazy plan was forming in her mind. If timed right, it might just rid them all of the menace the Vorloren super soldiers posed. "I noticed up some ways from the canyon, in the more mountainous region, there is a large reservoir with a dam. If that dam were to fail and release all the water it's holding back, would it not flood the entire canyon?"

"Yes, I suppose it would, but the dam was designed not to fail," Wolachea answered hesitantly, trying to follow her train of thought.

"It seems to me that since the Vorlorens have no idea that they are the ones that can actually be trapped in the canyon, that we should lure as many of them into the center as possible, let your people slip out, seal the Vorlorens in, and then blow the dam. They will have no escape and will be drown. Even they need air to breathe," Mac informed him. "The Vorlorens will never know what hit them."

Reed, having heard the strategy unfold, looked at the human super soldier with profound respect. "That sounds like an excellent idea to me. Then we can be rid of Hister and Romdel's vile army once and for all. It's perfect."

Mac found herself blushing at Reed's praise. It was not often that she received it. For it to come from him, who had the hardest time in trusting her, was really gratifying. "It would take some effort to work out all the details, but it might just work, milady," Wolachea said with a little awe in his voice. He was beginning to think that his people may just get out of this alive after all. The Dark Guardian was now on duty and proving that she was all she had been made out to be.

"Then let's get the information to all of your commanders to get it all disseminated and get everything coordinated," Mac said, starting to take charge. "We need to hurry before the Vorlorens decide to use their fleet's firepower, or something worse. Your people need to vacate the planet as soon as possible. I will do what I can to keep the Vorloren super soldiers distracted and occupied while you get all things in order. I will try to find a way to get all of them into the canyon, for we need to destroy all of them, and we won't get a second chance at this."

"Agreed," Wolachea replied. "And thank you, milady. You will have saved us all."

"Don't thank me until its done," Mac said a little forcefully. " 'The best laid plans of mice and men'…." she trailed off. Wolachea looked at her uncertain as to the meaning of her quote. But the _Enterprise_ crew caught it, and they all chuckled as they moved out with new speed and purpose.

TBC

**How was all the action? Was it a nice change of pace? I am now winding up to the climax and then the resolution. Let me know what you think. Thanks for sticking in there with me.**


	39. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For language and violent battle scenes. This chapter doesn't have as much as the last one, but there is some blood and gore in this one. Just warning ya.**

**A/N: This chapter was my way to reunite Mac and Archer before the last hurrah. I tried to be creative and clever, so we'll see what readers think. I also come right out and let certain facts be known that I've been hinting at throughout the story. I hope I worked things out all right. Leave some reviews and let me know what you guys think.**

**Thanks again to LadyRainbow for coming through for me once more, despite being sick and having some struggles. She rocks!! As do all fanfiction readers and writers!!! :)**

**Chapter 38**

Silik felt the painful sting of a slap hit him a second time. His mind was foggy, but the pain was helping him gain focus. His eyes felt heavy and the rest of his body felt like lead. Something struck him again, harder this time, and the Suliban warrior realized it was a strike to his face. The haze from his mind lifted, the darkness surrounding him faded, and reality materialized in front of him.

"Maybe you should hit him again," a soft, feminine voice said. "He should be coming out of it by now."

Silik opened his eyes to find Jonathan Archer kneeling over him with his arm and hand raised to smack the Suliban across the face once more. Ashoria was standing above them both with a look of concerned worried etched on her translucent face.

"That won't be necessary," Silik managed to get out. It felt like his was talking around gauze in his mouth. "I'm conscious. I think."

Archer smiled thinly at him. "It's about damn time," he said with what sounded, to the Suliban, like urgency in his voice. "We don't have much time. We have to get off this ship and down to the planet now. We think Hister is going to do something truly horrifying."

"What are you talking about, Jon?" Silik demanded, confused. "What happened to me? The last thing I remember was that you were unconscious and locked in a cell."

"A lot has happened since then," Archer shot back. "You pretended to stand guard, while Ashoria ran back up to the bridge, where she found out some very important information. She came back, 'helped' me back to consciousness, much the way I helped you, and we decided to make a run for it. We took out all the guards, but one of them got a lucky shot off at you. I've been trying to lug your ass down to the hanger bay to steal a ship, but your weight was slowing us down. So we decided to wake you up, and then finish our escape."

Silik looked from Archer to Ashoria in total disbelief. _Why don't I remember any of what the Captain just told me? _He glanced at his surroundings and learned that they were not in the battleship's brig anymore. They were in a secluded spot in a darkened hallway.

Ashoria let him know where they were. "We're just outside the main hanger deck. We need to steal a fighter or shuttle to make it down to the planet."

"And why did we want to go down there?" Silik asked, still suspicious. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

Ashoria cast a meaningful look in the Captain's direction, but behind his back. The look had only been for Silik. "I found what our benefactor asked us to locate, and we need to get Archer out of here. I have learned that McKenna is alive as well."

"It's down on the planet?" Silik queried. If Ashoria meant what he thought she meant, it was a great find. She obviously hadn't told Archer what it was, and that was the reason for her being so cryptic. She was right about saving Archer too. It was the last that brought him the most relief, though and such a relief, he had never felt before today. McKenna was alive and so his benefactor would have life; the timeline would be restored.

Sure enough Archer questioned their exchange. "What did you find? I thought you'd agreed to help me get to Mac and stop Hister from using his new super weapon."

The female Suliban in disguise looked to Silik to answer. "It is none of your concern. Just a minor detail we have to clear up to set the timeline right," he said, lying to Archer. The Suliban was still trying to work out why the other faction member's time travel equipment would be down on the planet, unless that faction member was planning on returning to his own time if things went south here. Ashoria must have figured out who the other faction member was, who it was that was interfering so badly with the timeline. Maybe this was a good sign things were turning back in the Suliban's favor.

"Once we get a ship and get out of here, I will explain it all to you, Silik," Ashoria assured him, "but we don't have time now." She tipped her head subtly at Archer, signaling that she didn't want to talk in front of the human. "Do you feel well enough to get a move on?"

As an answer, Silik pushed himself to his feet, but he swayed a bit and felt slightly dizzy. Archer reached out and steadied him. "I'll have to be it seems," he replied.

The human was not about to let the previous matter drop, however. "I'm not buying the 'We're here to fix the timeline', bullshit anymore, Silik," the Captain told the Suliban warrior with anger in his voice and demeanor. "Your benefactor wants something to happen between Mac and me doesn't he?"

Silik decided to give Archer an innocent look, although he was surprised that the Captain had partially figured things out. "Whatever do you mean, Jon?" he asked, suddenly feeling smug again.

"I'm embarrassed that it took me so long to put two-and-two together, but did you really think I wouldn't?" the Captain retorted.

"Really, Jon, do you want to discuss this _now_?" Silik answered Archer's question with one of his own. "We aren't really in a position to have a committee meeting," he then said with sarcasm.

Ashoria appeared to agree with the Suliban. "Silik's right, Captain. We need to get out of here. It won't be long until the Vorlorens notice you aren't in the brig anymore."

"Fine," Archer spat, "but this conversation's not over. I _will_ get to the bottom of your real intentions, one way or another." With that said, he reclaimed the pulse pistol he had stuck in his pants before he had tried to beat Silik back into consciousness. He turned to enter the hanger bay, his allies right behind him. Silik proceeded to blend into his surroundings to find and overtake any technicians or soldiers in the vicinity. Ashoria scanned the bay for an appropriate and working vessel. She found one forty meters ahead of them.

Three or four punches later, Silik had gotten the technicians prepping the small shuttle for launch out of the way. Ashoria and Archer shot two Vorloren officers as they came past the shuttle. The threesome made their way into the shuttle and Ashoria went to work at starting the engines. "We aren't cleared for launch. The Vorlorens will detect the unauthorized flight. Should we just go for it and hope we get away?" she asked.

"Yes," Archer and Silik said at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Let's hope they have more important things to worry about than a rogue shuttle launch then," Ashoria commented dryly. The shuttle's engines hummed to life under her careful touch. She engaged the aft thrusters, after she activated the initial dampeners, and set a course to take them out of the hanger bay and down through the planet's various layers of atmosphere. "We might be able to confuse their sensors if we play in the upper atmosphere for a bit," she informed her passengers.

"Do it," said Silik hurriedly, trying to beat Archer to the punch this time. The Captain just glared at the Suliban.

An alarm began to blare in response to the uncleared take off. Various lights on the panels in front of Ashoria began to flash. Archer heard muffled voices coming over the shuttle's comm system, warnings and orders to stand down. Ashoria ignored them and fire all the thrusters, shooting the shuttle out of the hanger and into space. She deftly flew the stolen shuttle craft away from the Vorloren battle cruiser and toward the planet ahead. A number of small fighter ships swarmed after them.

"Somebody needs to man the weapons, and somebody needs to get me a tactical report," Ashoria, snapped at both Archer and Silik, who were still having a staring contest with each other. "Now!" she yelled, startling the two men.

"Yes, ma'am," Archer replied, a guilty look coming over his face that he had not helped out sooner. He quickly stationed himself at the weapons console.

Silik looked at who he thought was Ashoria in shock for a moment, and then he situated himself at another console next to her. "Shields on line," he announced. "Let's hope the Vorloren shield technology is as good as they claim. I have some doubt about our aim." This snide remark was directed at Captain Archer.

"There's nothing wrong with my targeting skills, Silik," Archer said defensively. "I can hit anything you can point out, my Suliban friend."

"We'll see," was all Silik said.

Particle weapons fire hit them from three sides, rocking the shuttle craft violently back and forth. "Boys, cut out the macho crap and fight back please," Ashoria hissed angrily at them. "If you hadn't noticed, we're in trouble."

Silik actually feeling a little chagrined, turned back around to his console and began locating the positions of the enemy ships and transferring their telemetries to Archer's station. Archer feed the data into his targeting scanners and began firing the shuttle's weapons back at the fighters.

Every which way Ashoria flew, enemy fighters dogged them. Archer was hitting them square on, but their shields were impressively strong; luckily the shuttle's were too. Silik suddenly took out a data disk from some hidden pocket inside his rusty orange suit. "This may help," he stated. "I was able to download many of the Vorloren defense codes. I may be able to take down their shields with them."

"And you're just telling us this now?" Archer asked in frustration.

"It was need-to-know information," Silik snapped back. "And you didn't need to know, Jon."

The Captain was so sick of this whole situation. "You slimy, little bas—," he started to yell, but Ashoria cut him off.

"Enough already," she huffed, rolling her eyes at them. "Silik just do it. We need to get down to the planet, not now, but right now." Her tone was fierce and full of an authority that Silik found puzzling, but intriguing. Maybe this new recruit was worth her weight after all.

The Suliban then inserted the data disk into his console and downloaded it into the Vorloren shuttle's computer banks. When it was complete, Silik's hands worked all over the console, pushing a variety of controls. "That should do it," he commented to no one and everyone. "I just ordered the fighters' computers to lower their shields. We should have free reign to blast them out of our way, Jon."

"About damn time," Archer replied and busied himself with targeting the fighters that had surrounded them.

The Captain would have preferred to just disable the fighters, instead of totally destroying them and killing the pilots, but without their shielding it didn't take much to blow them apart. To be able to clear a path to the surface, Archer ended up taking out at least twenty fighters. Their shuttle kept taking hits here and there, but their shields held fully, and Ashoria's flying allowed them to dodge a lot of the particle weapons fire.

Finally, she was able to fly the craft down through the thick layers of the planet's atmosphere, and they beheld the absolute destruction of it taking place. The Vorlorens had obviously taken down the Lasiterians deflector shield, for their soldiers, machines, and particle weapons fire poured into the narrow canyon in front of the shuttle. Huge, land-based phase cannons pierced through the air, raining death and debris in their wake.

Silik could see in the Captain's sudden tensing shoulders and deep frown that he was worried very deeply about McKenna. She was down in the middle of all of that mess. Rock and metal exploded, flames engulfed the vegetation, black smoke rose like a great serpent into the sky, and bodies litter the ground; some were Vorloren and many were Lasiterian. The Captain's skin had paled to a sickly white color as Silik watch the blood drain from his face, and the Suliban thought he saw tears glimmering in Archer's eyes.

"This is horrible," the Captain managed to whisper.

Silik, too, was humbled by the destruction he saw. "I have to agree with you, Jon. This species is immersed in bloodshed."

Ashoria found a landing spot away from the heart of the siege. Once she powered down the engines and locked the landing gear in place, she swiftly stood, grabbing her pulse pistol from her pants. She signaled for Archer to do the same; they were both holding Silik at gun point.

"What are you doing, Ashoria?" Silik demanded, his earlier suspicions coming back to haunt him. He should have acted on them then; now it was too late.

"Actually, the name's Amy," she told him, hitting a few dials on her hidden utility belt. She transformed from the tall, translucent, red head into the petite, sandy haired, very human woman that she really was.

"You're one of Daniels' meddling temporal fools!" Silik exclaimed in disbelief.

"Gee, you're quick, Silik," Archer remarked sarcastically.

Silik just stared at Archer dumbfounded. _How had the human out smarted him? _He was supposed to have the upper hand here, not Archer. "You're in on this?" Silik asked.

"You'd better believe it," Archer said with glee.

Silik turned to Amy now. "So the part about finding our long sought out item was just a rouse to help you two get off the ship and down here?" he wanted to know.

Amy regarded Silik coolly. "Yeah, it was. I had to think of something for you to take the bait about, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker." She smiled in a self-satisfied way at him.

"Why did you really want to come down here?" the Suliban continued to ask questions.

Archer decided to answer that one. "There is another faction at work here, Silik; far worse than your benefactor. They want to completely wipe out the Lasiterians. I'm not going to let that happen; they will be stopped."

"I've known for a very long time that another faction was at work here," Silik stated matter-of-factly, "but I didn't know their whole agenda. I'll help you defeat them if you help me get the item I want."

"I don't think so, Silik," Amy replied hotly. "I think you're going to sit this one out," and with that she shot him; only stunning him into unconsciousness. She turned to Archer and said, "We need to restrain him and put him somewhere out of harm's way. I don't want him interfering, but I'm not a murderer either."

"I'm not going to argue with you," the Captain replied in complete agreement with Amy. He then helped her tie Silik up, and they found a nice cave to dump him in. Hopefully, by the time he awoke and freed himself, the whole mess would be over and done with.

Archer had one thing on his mind now. "We need to find and destroy that super weapon."

"We need to get to the center of the canyon," Amy informed him. "That's where Solin will deploy the Atomizer. We need to hurry."

"Lead the way, Amy," Archer said. "I'm right behind you." They headed off in a northeastern direction, hoping they made it in time.

* * *

Mac was standing on the left cliff face, observing the utter destruction of the Lasiterian army. They stood their ground, fighting with all their might, but they were losing. Now that the Vorloren super soldiers were back online and coordinated with their neuro implants, their great strength had returned. Their uniformity in battle was so complete, as to be totally overwhelming in power.

Wolachea had worked to try and evacuate his people, at least the civilians not fighting, but the thick Vorloren presence throughout the canyon floor, plateaus, and skies above was making it nearly impossible. Small groups were escaping, but it was very slow going. The Lasiterian chief feared they would not all make it. He just hoped his troops on the ground could last until Malcolm and Travis, along with a small squad of his own men, could blow the dam holding back the reservoir up south from the bottom of the canyon. He wondered if they could make it to safety before all the water came pouring into it, and the other side of the canyon would be slammed down into place, trapping a bulk of the Vorloren super soldier army. It also looked like not all of the soldiers would be trapped and drown; that was discouraging.

If the Dark Guardian was able to call those not in the canyon back down into it, then they might have a better chance. However, Wolachea also noticed, as he looked through his electronic binoculars, that the regular Vorloren army was setting up some kind of huge tower in the middle of the canyon. He didn't know what it was or what it was meant to do, but he knew that it wasn't good.

"Do you see what I see, McKenna?" he asked the human super soldier he was standing next to.

"Yeah, I see it," she answered.

Mac didn't need any binoculars, her hawk DNA allowed her to zoom her vision to view the tall and homely structure in perfect clarity. Its design reminded Mac of the skyward reaching Space Needle in Seattle, Washington, or the one in Toronto, Canada. This tower was much wider and much, much taller than either of those Earth buildings. It was shiny and black as well. When Mac examined it closely, it look like it had scales on it, but that was not what they were. They were some kind of structure that would open up like a flower's petals when it went into full bloom. Mac counted twenty of them, and a very sick feeling began to bubble up in her stomach.

Suddenly, she could hear the Vorloren personnel's thoughts as they hastily put the tower together. The sheer number of Vorlorens and all their vehicles and equipment were making short work of its construction. Through hearing the regular armies' thoughts, she learned that it was a massive weapon, one that would destroy everything on the face of the planet; it would vaporize anything its energy beams came into contact with, breaking down the very atoms holding matter together.

"Oh my God!" Mac found herself crying out. "Wolachea, you've got to get your people into your transports and off this planet, immediately!"

"We are evacuating as fast as we can, McKenna," he replied, raising a creamy eyebrow at her. "The Vorloren fleet is surrounding the orbit of the planet. I'm afraid they will fire upon any ships that try to leave. Won't my people be safe as long as they are out of our canyon home?"

"No, no they won't," Mac informed him, as she paced the cliff top. "That tower is some kind of super weapon that will kill everything on the planet when it's activated."

Wolachea couldn't quite believe it. "But won't the Vorlorens be killing most of their super soldiers, not to mention all the regular Vorloren army battalions down their assembling it?"

"Hister doesn't care," Mac explained. "He only cares about your people's complete and utter annihilation. You have to remember he isn't a real Vorloren; he's a Gorn. He's a temporal agent from sometime in the future, named Solin. He's come back in time to destroy your civilization. He's been using your Vorloren brethren against you. They have been his tools to bring about your destruction."

"I do remember your earlier revelation, McKenna," Wolachea told her somberly, "but I was trying not to believe it."

"Trust me, Wolachea," Trip said, having been standing in the background, just listening; now he came forward, "I'm sure Mac's right about this. This ain't the first time my people have had to deal with scumbags from the future messin' around with the timeline. Frankly, I'm gettin' a little sick of it."

Wolachea was silently thoughtful for a moment. "It does seem quite unfair to use time travel to change the past, just because you don't like your present," he said with quiet conviction. "That should not be allowed."

"Technically, it's not," Trip explained, "but that doesn't keep the bad guys from tryin'."

"Listen," Mac broke back it hurriedly, "I've got to get the rest of the Vorloren super soldiers into the canyon and find a way to take out that monstrous weapon. You should still plan on blowing the dam, but if I fail, then it won't really matter," she spoke to Wolachea. "I can't let your people be wiped out. I just can't while I still draw breath."

Trip was beside himself with this news. "You don't plan on bein' down there, when the water arrives, do ya?' he demanded.

"Not if I can help it," was Mac's response, "but nothing matters except making sure that tower is out of commission. It is being protected by a Vorloren force field, until it's operational to fire. No amount of Lasiterian assault will be able to bring it down. I'll have to find a way through its shielding and stop it from firing."

"Why do I have a bad feelin' about this, Mac?" Trip asked, giving her a sour look.

Mac gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then turned to leave. "Because, this is a do-or-die situation, Trip," was all she said as she walked away.

Trip went to go after her; to stop her or try and talk some sense into her, he wasn't sure. Wolachea's hand on his upper arm stopped him. "Let her go, my friend. She needs to do this not only to save my people, but to save herself." Trip could say nothing in response, knowing what the chief said was true, so he just hung his head in defeat.

Mac found a secluded spot, not far down the path the Lasiterians had cut into the cliff face to take her down a few levels from the top. She tried to position herself once more where she could see as much of what was going on down in the canyon below her as possible. It was now or never; she had to pull this off. She had to break into the Vorloren super soldiers' minds with her new psionic abilities and use the neuro implant to amplify those abilities. It shouldn't be too hard, since she had joined her mind with theirs before.

The first thing she needed to do was cut them off from communication with Hister and any of his top commanders. Then she could reassert her status as the super soldiers' leader in their place. She thought about trying to find a way to make it so Hister didn't really realize he was cut off from the super soldiers as well. Mac closed her eyes and attempted to picture the Vorloren super soldiers in her mind. She created as detailed an image as she could conjure up in her imagination, and then she set about feeling for their presence through the neuro implant. It didn't take along until she was deluged with their collective consciousness. She had to reach out and steady herself against the cliff's rock wall.

She picked out the link Hister had and the link General Manglin had been given directly to them. Mac was going to sever those links completely, but then thought better of it. Instead, she tried to set up interference or partially block their link. That would confuse them and give her more time to work with; she hoped. Then she started trying to command the super soldiers. As she accessed her new mental abilities, a slow burning began behind her eyes; she tried to ignore it.

_This is Nemesis, _she thundered at the super soldiers in their minds. _You need to pull back and regroup. All of you must assemble in the center of the canyon. The Lasiterians will be trapped there, and their defeat will be complete._

Mac instantly felt the whole of their army respond to her orders, and it was like she had never been disconnected from them. They obeyed without question or independent thought; they just did as they were told. Without Hister or Manglin to counter-order her, the army was hers. For a brief moment, the temptation to use her new found power over them for domination and control washed through her. With the Vorloren super soldier army she could do anything she wanted, take whatever she wanted, conquer whatever she wanted. She could set her self up as leader of the whole system, if she so desired. Then she pushed that illusion away. It was not who she was, or what she stood for; she would not use her power that way. She was feeling bad enough using it to lead the Vorloren super soldiers to their deaths, but they had to be destroyed; their threat was too great.

Once she was satisfied that the super soldier army was fully complying with her commands, she started to make her way to the bottom of the canyon. Her head was now starting to throb, the beginnings of one hell of a migraine. Mac knew she had precious little time to find a way to cripple or damage Hister's super weapon before it wiped out everything. Then out of the blue, she felt another presence; a much welcomed and friendly one — Jonathan.

Archer was here on the planet. Somehow, he had escaped the Vorloren battle cruiser, and then made his way planet side. Mac couldn't help but be excited by that fact and extremely relieved that he was alive and well. He was also out of Hister's grip, and therefore, Hister couldn't kill him. Then, she realized he would die along with everyone else on this planet if she didn't put an end to the tower in the center of the canyon. Her Jonathan was right in harm's way. _Damn it_, she cursed in her mind. _Now I really have to pull this off._

Mac redoubled her efforts to get down to the canyon floor. She disappeared inside a secret Lasiterian entrance that would take her down into the tunnels that ran all throughout the canyon walls on both sides. That would be the faster way to get down from the top of the plateau. While she was racing down the interconnected tunnels in the dark, using her animal DNA enhanced night vision, she thought about how she could destroy the super weapon.

She would have to deal with all the regular Vorloren army that would be putting together the final pieces and guarding the cursed thing. The weapon itself would probably have its own defenses she would have to get passed. Then there was the extraordinarily strong deflector shield protecting it. Mac wondered if, like the Lasiterian deflector shield, it would have a weakness. Where the energy shield met the ground, it fluctuated allowing low kinetic energy substances to slip through it. She might be able to find a spot to slip through the shield, unless Hister had planned for that, which was a distinct possibility. If that were the case she would have to take out the shield generator someway, and then the shield would drop, allowing her get at the super weapon.

When Mac reached the bottom of the canyon, she silently slipped out of another secret exit, and she brought her sais out of her boots. The Vorloren regular army would be swarming around down here, and they were sure to have set up sentry squads to guard those that were putting the tower together. Mac had the feeling they were just about finished. She really needed to get her ass moving.

With cat-like steps she rushed forward, all her heightened senses on alert. She heard and smelled a number of Vorlorens up and around the corner and could feel their essences too. Just as a snake strikes out at its prey, with lightning fast reflexes, Mac struck out with her sais at the Vorloren patrol. There were ten in all, and in a matter of seconds, they were lying on the ground, in a pool of their own blood, for Mac had slit all their throats. The only sound they made was the soft thud of their bodies hitting the ground. They didn't even have time to drop their pulse rifles.

Moving onward, Mac could now make out the perimeter surrounding the super weapon. Most of the equipment was being pulled away, as it had been completely assembled. Mac thought the huge tower stretch at least halfway up the canyon walls, and they were at least six hundred fifty meters tall. _Holy shit! _Mac thought in shock. _That is one tall tower._

Just then another squad of Vorloren regular army soldiers sighted her and began firing at her. She zigged and zagged as she dodged the phased energy coming at her. She even somersaulted over a few of the soldiers, got behind them, and ran them through with her sais. She kicked the legs out from underneath two more, making them lose their footing and their weapons and quickly made sure they wouldn't be a threat anymore. It wasn't long before she had ten more dead Vorlorens at her feet. Mac wasn't in a bloodlust mode, she just identified her targets, took them out, and moved on; her main objective paramount in her mind. The soldiers were just obstacles in her way that had to be removed.

A soldier controlling a crane saw her and tried to swing the crane's long, chained hook at her to stop her advance. She was too fast for the crane and its operator, getting to the cab of the crane before the hook even got close to her. Mac broke the windshield of the crane with a power kick, and she hauled the operator of it, throwing him a good ten meters with one arm. Her other hand now held both sais. He crashed to the ground, smacking his head so hard it killed him on impact; neck broken and skull cracked. Looking at the crane gave Mac an idea.

Its kinetic energy might be low enough that she could get it through the force field and use it to knock the tower down. She smiled at the wickedly ironic thought of using a machine that had helped create the tower to now destroy it. Mac didn't get the chance to try it, however, as a large blast from a phase cannon streaked past her. She barely avoided the pulse as it took out the entire crane in a blaze of light. The roaring fire of twisted metal in its place was what she saw as she picked herself back up off the ground from where she had landed.

She quickly located the phase cannon and its gunner; four hundred meters to her left and up a small incline. Mac zoomed her vision in tight on the gunner. Picturing his heart bursting his chest, Mac felt the man die. The pounding in her head became a lancing pain, and she fell to her knees. Using her new mental abilities came at a cost.

Many of the Vorlorens were closing in on her. Mac could see the base of the tower, just up a little further from her position. She was almost there; she couldn't stop now. Forcing herself to move despite the pain in her head and the nausea, she got back to her feet. She sheathed her sais and switched to her pulse pistols. She was through doing things the hard way; she had no more time to waste on her enemy combatants.

With almost the speed and accuracy of a computer, she started sighting targets and firing. The Vorlorens personal shields buckled under her constant barrage of fire. The soldiers began dropping all around her, as she burned holes right through them. She started running, careful to not let their weapons fire hit her. One occasionally did, but her healing ability swiftly repaired any damage. It took only a few minutes and she was at the base of the tower.

_Now how to decimate the damn thing_, she thought, but she didn't get to contemplate the matter for long. More phase cannon fire tried to blot her out. One shot glanced off her right side, singeing her and sending her flying through the air. She smacked into other piece of Vorloren equipment, a flying welding machine that was parked on the ground. Mac saw stars, and between the cannon hit and the crack to her head, she lost consciousness.

* * *

Amy and Archer watched in horror as Mac was struck by a phase cannon hit. When the transgenic landed on top of the hovering welding machine, she didn't move again. "Mac!" Archer cried and ran out from behind his cover. He spared little thought about himself getting shot.

"Captain!" Amy exclaimed as she watched Archer foolishly rush toward the woman he loved.

She found herself having no choice but to follow him, firing off a steady stream of pulse pistol fire as she ran, and trying to provide them with some cover fire. Miraculously, Archer and Amy made to Mac's position unharmed. The human super soldier was breathing, Amy could tell, but she was knocked out.

"Mac, Mac," Archer called over and over, gently grabbing her and pulling her off the welder. "Can you hear me, sweetheart?" he asked, shaking her slightly. Hearing Mac moan in pain at that moment was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. "Oh, Mac."

"Jonathan?" she said in confusion.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied tenderly, stroking her face as he held her. "Are you okay?"

Mac blinked at him a few times as her eyes came back into focus. Her body was almost completely healed again, but some of the residual pain was still there. "I've been better," she quipped.

Archer couldn't help but smile at his beloved. It had seemed like ages since he'd seen her, but it had only been a few hours. "What are you doing out here?" he then asked.

"Trying to destroy that," Mac answered him, pointing up at the tall and imposing black tower. "If we don't, it will kill everything on this planet."

"Huh," was Archer's first response. "We're trying to do the same thing."

"We?" Mac inquired, finally looking around, still in her Jonathan's arms.

"Yeah, me and Amy," he responded, motioning with one hand for Amy to step forward. "She's a temporal agent sent by the good guys to help us," he explained.

Mac quickly took in the small and petite form of the human-looking, young woman. She felt like she was looking at female version of Jonathan. _No. She couldn't be, could she?_ went through Mac's mind. Amy had his hair, his eyes, and his beautiful smile. _Does that mean I will still bear Jonathan children?_

"It's an honor to meet you, Mac," Amy said suddenly shy; she had not expected to meet the famous McKenna McKnight on this mission. It caught her off guard.

"Likewise," Mac said, trying to stand. "Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated. It's good to know some of you time traveling people are on our side. What do you suggest?" Mac desperately wanted to talk to this Amy more about herself, where she was from, find out all about her, but time was not on their side right now. An in depth discussion would have to come later.

Amy took out what looked like some kind of fancy portable scanner from her utility belt. "It is ready to be activated, so we don't have much time. The deflector shield will drop when it's fully charged and about to fire, but we don't want to cut things that close. A few concussion grenades, here and here," she showed Mac on a schematic she'd also pulled up on her little device, "should take out the shield generator. Then we need something more powerful to blow the Atomizer apart; into a million pieces if possible."

"How about one of those phase cannons that knocked me on my ass?" Mac put forth her idea.

"Hell, yeah, that would work," Amy replied with enthusiasm that made Mac smile warmly at her. "Although, I think it might take two. Two of us could go take charge of a couple of them, reacquisition them from the Vorlorens, and one of us could stay here and set off the concussion grenades."

"We might have some another complications," Mac chose to inform them. "All of the Vorloren super soldiers will be gathering here, thinking that they have the Lasiterians trapped. Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather are going to blow the reservoir dam up above the canyon floor and flood it. The other side of what seems like the opening into the canyon will drop down effectively trapping them in it. The Lasiterians have a hidden way to flee out the other side of the canyon that now seems closed off. We have to get this tower destroyed before all that happens or it will all be for nothing. Also, if we don't get out of here in time, we'll be drown along with the Vorloren super soldiers and any Vorlorens who are left here. We may have end up fighting the super soldiers if I lose control of them."

Archer's jaw dropped. "You're the one controlling them right now? Getting them to congregate in the center of the canyon?"

Mac couldn't help but grin at her lover. "It seems I'm gaining some new abilities, and I still have my trusty neuro implant." Despite the seriousness of the situation, she was happy to be with Jonathan again, and to find out, however indirectly it was, that she and Jonathan would have children, filled her with new vitality.

"Obviously," Archer shot back. "Something else for Phlox to figure out." Then he changed topics. "How come the odds always seem to be stacked against us? Why couldn't, just for once, something be easy?" He, too, couldn't help but feel energized by being with Mac again, and knowing that if they succeeded here, he'd have a family.

"Because that wouldn't be any fun," Amy chimed back in. "And saving the universe is never an easy task," she added with a cheery grin. This was what she'd trained for, and she was getting to work with two of the most famous people she knew. It also added to her excitement that she was distantly related to them. This was a dream come true; saving the universe with her long time heroes.

Both Mac and Archer looked at Amy, and then at each other. Both of them laughed at her enthusiasm, knowing exactly where she got it from. "I'll set the grenades," Mac volunteered. "I can do it twice as fast as either of you, and still have time to get out of the way of the explosion they'll cause and your phase cannon fire. You two might also need a distraction to help you get past the Vorlorens."

"I just had a similar thought," Amy said, but then added, "but with a little bit of a twist to it."

"Oh?" Mac looked askance at the temporal agent.

"I think Jon should stay here and set the grenades. You and I, because of our special natures, can get through the regular Vorloren army soldiers and any of the super soldiers we run across much quicker to be in position to use the phase cannons. We watched you fight your way down here. It was very impressive, and it provided us the opportunity to get here basically undetected and problem free. Jon will need as much time as we can give him."

"Do I get a vote in all of this?" Archer tried to asked, but the two women didn't seem to hear him.

"_Our_ special natures?" Mac questioned.

Amy suddenly realized she had majorly let the cat out of the bag. "Well…um…I…um…meant...," she stammered in reply.

Mac pulled out of Jonathan's comfy arms and stood in front of Amy. "I knew who you were the moment I saw you," the transgenic told her. "Call it a 'mother's intuition'."

Amy blushed a serious shade of red. Then she heard Archer say, "I've suspected the same thing for quite a while now." He watched the blush deepen, if that were possible.

"Oh dear," Amy finally managed to say. "You weren't supposed to know. That was one of Daniels' conditions on letting me have this mission. He's gonna kill me when he finds out."

"Who says he will?" Mac said conspiratorially. "Now, either plan puts Jonathan in a lot of danger, which I don't like, but yours is probably the less risky one. We'll try it your way and make sure Jonathan can get to safety."

"Hey, I'm standing right here, Mac," Archer said testily. "Look, I may not be genetically enhanced, but I'm not inexperienced or a physical slouch. I'm perfectly capable to doing my fair share of saving the universe."

Both Mac and Amy realizing what they'd done, how they'd bruised his ego, couldn't hold back their laughter. Then Mac felt sorry for treating him so. "I'm sorry, Jonathan," she told him, drawing him into her arms. "I was just trying to look out for you. I don't want to lose you like that."

"And I don't want to lose you," he said with deep affection. "You're my life now, but I trust you to come back to me. All I ask is for you to do the same. I really can do this."

"I know," Mac replied, giving him a fierce kiss. "I know."

Amy loved seeing the passion between her two ancestors; it lived up to its telling and retelling. She hated to break up the moment, but they had to get moving. "If that's all settled, let's actually save the universe and not just talk about it."

With one last laugh, Mac and Archer separated, gave each other confident looks, and then they went to work. _We have to succeed_, Mac thought, _we just have to._

TBC

**Okay now that the team's all together, I'm winding up for the big finish. How was the action? Any reaction to the final reveals I put in there? Let me know how I did. Thanks. There are two more chapters to go until the end, by the way.**


	40. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**Rated T: For violence battle scenes and language. Still a little bit of blood and gore at the beginning as the climax hits.**

**A/N: Okay, this is it; the big final push toward the end. Hope it works out to readers' satisfaction. This was the ending I always had in mind. The last bit at the end was actually a recent addition, however. Another fellow author, AblatedCrayon, gave me the basic idea which I played with and wrote out. Also, as I thought about it, I realized I **_**had**_** kind of left that one bit of plot unresolved, so hopefully it works. I liked it and had fun with it at any rate. Read and enjoy, and please let me know what you think about my ending to this monster story. I can't believe it went on for so long, but I did finally make it to the end. There will be one more chapter after this one, an epilogue, to tie up a few loose ends. Thanks for hanging in there with me.**

**I want to thank Lady Rainbow again for also sticking out all this time with beta reading my story. I truly couldn't have completed this with out her. **

**Chapter 39**

Archer was setting the last of the concussion grenades that Amy had generously provided him with, when he felt a presence behind him. He instantly knew it was not a friendly presence, but one that intend to do him great harm. Archer moved aside just as a large metal beam nearly sliced him in half. As he rolled to his feet again, he turned to face his assailant. What he saw took him aback, for he'd expected to see a Vorloren super soldier from the size of the beam thrown at him. Instead, he saw what reminded him of a giant, green iguana with many sharp and pointed teeth rushing at him.

The creature flung him off his feet and into a wall of the shield generator. Archer struggled to breathe; the wind had been knocked out of him. Then he felt something sharp rip across his left leg. He cried out as the pain hit him. He heard the strange alien snort and utter a guttural growl. "I wanted the transsgenic to kill you, but I think I will enjoy doing it mysself," the lizard-man hissed at the Captain, low and raspy.

Archer realized that this giant lizard must be Hister in his true form as the Gorn that Amy had told him about. This was the monster that had tried to turn his Mac against him, make her a ruthless murderer. The primal force with in Archer that had been held at bay was unleashed. The Captain let it overtake him; he knew he needed the added strength of his primitive side, and he wanted to let the anger and rage fuel him.

Willing himself to ignore the burning pain in his left leg, Archer clenched his hands into tight fists and swung away at the Gorn. He hit the fiend over and over again. Solin, not being prepare for the viciousness of Archer's sudden attack, fell back under the heat of the smaller human's blows. After his initial shock wore off, Solin snarled ferociously and used one of his long, muscular forearms to slam Archer back into the side of the shield generator. He was not going to allow a puny human to thwart him.

Solin had come down to personally supervise the last stages of the construction of his precious Atomizer. He had a mini-teleportation device that would allow him to transport back up to the safety of the Vorloren fleet, or his escape fighter, if it came to that. None of the Vorlorens knew he had this technological ability. Romdel and the others under his command thought he was finalizing the destruction of the Lasiterians from his ready room on the bridge.

When Solin had seen Archer and the woman with him dash across the canyon floor toward his super weapon, he had decided to lose his Vorloren disguise for the moment. It had come as a great surprise that Archer had escaped the Vorloren battle cruiser and was here on the planet. It had also surprised the Gorn to see that the transgenic was still alive as well, and he had feared that she would try to intervene and stop the Atomizer from firing its life eliminating beam. He knew she had somehow overcome his second drug. Solin didn't understand how, and it troubled him. He also had discovered that she had wrested away his control over the Vorloren super soldier army. That he couldn't do anything about, which enraged him, but he'd be damned if he let her destroy his ultimate creation. He had been prepared to kill her, but had found Archer instead. That was so much the better: Archer was an easier target, and Archer's death was an important part of his mission. Without Archer there would be no Federation of Planets; he had to die.

Now Solin relished the fact that he was going to get to end the meddling human's life himself; no middle man. He smiled with all of his razor-sharp teeth at Archer, who was slumped against a side wall of the Atomizer. This was just too easy, like child's play. _What a pity_, the Gorn thought to himself.

"Any last words before you die, human?" Solin asked, not really caring what Archer had to say.

Archer looked up at him, blood trailing from his nose. "You going to pay for what you did to Mac," was the growled reply. Solin noticed the human's pupils were once again fully dilated.

"I don't think sssso," Solin hissed back, "at least not by your hand." He reached out to grab Archer to choke the life out of him or to break his neck.

His hands grabbed only air; Archer was not there. The human had slid in between his legs, stopped by Solin's tail. Archer kicked with all his might at the Gorn's right knee; not once, not twice, but three times. Solin felt the cartilage break, his knee cap shift out of place, and tendons tear. He roared his pain and displeasure as he fell to the ground, his leg no long able to support him. He whipped his tail around to collide with Archer and sent him sprawling to the ground. Then as swiftly as his ruined knee would allow, he threw himself on top of Archer, snapping his teeth-filled jaws at the human.

Solin was jolted with glee at the sound of Archer's yowl of pain as the Gorn bit into the human's shoulder, slicing through muscle and skin. Solin went to snap bone too, but a sudden hurt in his groin area, stopped him short. Archer had savagely kicked him in a very sensitive spot. The human did it a second time, forcing Solin to back off completely. He hissed and growled his rage and pain.

Scrambling away, Archer found a way to get to his feet again. He frantically searched for some type of weapon. A baseball-sized pipe lay not too far away. The Captain grabbed for it, and then brought it around to smack it into the Gorn's skull. Solin, still recovering from the pain in his groin, barely managed to block the hit in time. More pain spread from his forearm up to his shoulder blade from the impact. He realized he had underestimated the human's strength, or maybe what the primal rage the Captain had bottled up would allow him to do.

"I've got you now, you bastard!" Archer yelled at the Gorn, raising the pipe high, ready to do some serious damage to the alien.

Solin watched carefully for an opening as the human made to bring the pipe down upon him. At the right moment, he flashed his uninjured hand into Archer's chest and slashed at him with his three claws. Archer grunted, staggered backward, and collapsed, the pipe slipping from his hands. Blood oozed from the gash in his stomach, and the pain blinded him for a moment. The Gorn didn't hesitate to press his advantage as he pinned Archer to the shield generator wall again. Solin ran his claws long one side of Archers face, leaving behind red trails of blood. Archer felt tears come to his eyes from all the abuse his body was taking, and he couldn't seem to get his breath.

"I've been waiting along time for thissss moment, Captain Archer," Solin told his victim in his guttural voice. "Your death will bring me great ssatissfaction."

Archer struggled in the alien's grip, tried to break free, and resume his own attack, but his loss of blood was draining his strength. The pain was canceling out his rage. He managed one more good punch to the Gorn's snout, but that was all. The Captain was afraid that Solin was right, and that he would die at the temporal agent's hands. _This wasn't supposed to be the way I die_, Archer briefly thought.

As Solin went to rip Archer's throat out, the pipe Archer had dropped pierced through the Gorn's abdomen. Green and yellow fluids covered the end of the pipe sticking out of him. _What the hell? _Solin thought in confusion. As Archer opened his eyes to see why he was still alive, he beheld the Mac in her feral form; amber eyes, sharpened teeth, and black claws. At first he thought he was seeing the Chimera, but then he realized it was just Mac; a very pissed off and ferocious Mac, but she was all Mac.

"I've had enough of you," she said in a deadly tone to Solin. "You've messed with my family for the last time. Your mission to change the past ends here. You've failed you miserable reptile." As Mac finished speaking, she pulled the pipe out of Solin and thrust it back in again, in the area of the Gorn's heart. He gurgled once, and then he was dead. Mac let go and let the alien slump to the ground in a heap.

"You came back," Archer whispered in astonishment. "You came back," he repeated.

"I knew you were in trouble," Mac told him as she surveyed his wounds; she didn't like what she saw. "I could feel it. I wasn't about to let him make you a part of history, yet."

"Oh, I love you, Mac," Archer said in sweet relief.

"And I love you, Jonathan," she returned, finally smiling. "We've got to get out of here. Your grenades should be ready to go off. Amy's going to blast away at this place too. Can you walk?"

Archer tried to stand and made it to his feet, before Mac had to grab him. Using her enhanced strength, she helped him shuffled run away from the Atomizer tower and away from the direction of the phase cannon fire. Even in his hazy state of mind, Archer didn't fail to notice that all of the super soldiers had gathered in the center of the canyon, and that they were all just standing at strict attention. None of them made a move to stop him and Mac, and none of them were harassing Amy at her phase cannon. He also noticed a trail of regular Vorloren soldiers' bodies going from the base of the Atomizer to the large phase cannon that Amy now occupied. She and Mac had made quick work of them. The rest had fled, he assumed.

The concession grenades went off in a spectacular pyrotechnical show of color and sound. Mac and Archer were thrown to the ground as the shockwave of the main explosion hit them. The shield generator went up in an orange and red ball of flame. The protective shield around the Atomizer went down. Mac waited to hear the air pierced with phase cannon fire. To Mac's surprise and great worry, it did not come.

Archer had been knocked unconscious, Mac noted with deepening worry. Suddenly, they were surrounded by Vorloren super soldiers. _What? How?_ Mac thought, panic beginning to sink in. She had felt them under her control, but now they were not. "Jonathan," she said as she tried to get Archer to stir. It was no use; he was out cold.

"Well, well, well," Romdel's voice broke into Mac's cybernetic implant. "It seems you've got a slight problem, McKenna," he taunted. "I've overridden you're control. The super soldier army is mine once again, and the Atomizer is ready to fire. You really didn't think you could defeat the great and mighty Vorloren Empire did you?"

"Hister's dead, Romdel," she spat back at him. "I ran a pipe through him personally. You're precious half-brother is dead. And you'll soon learn that he wasn't really your family member at all."

"What lies are you trying to feed me now, McKenna?" Romdel's voice was sharp. "Whatever you say doesn't matter because ultimate victory is mine."

The super soldiers advanced on her and Archer. She had to do something, and she had to do it right now. Reaching out with her mind, she concentrated on as many of the Vorloren super soldiers as she could. She imagined blood vessels in the brains bursting, causing them to stroke out. It took every bit of fine tuning she could muster, and all her facilities centered on the one action. A few seconds later, the Vorloren super soldiers began to drop to the ground, convulsing. Mac was only able to affect the ones in the closest vicinity to her, but it was enough for her to swing Archer over her shoulders and run for it.

Mac had to fight the searing pain in her head, and she stumbled from its onslaught. She had to get Jonathan out of here; he was all she could think about. "Here let me take him," Amy was shockingly by her side. "I'll get him to safety. You just destroy the Atomizer; if you don't we're all dead. You're the only one that can do it, Mac."

Blood was running out of Mac's nose and she was extremely dizzy. She heard what Amy said and felt its urgency, but it sounded muffled and far away. "Come on, Mac," Amy demanded. "Fight it off. Push through it."

Taking big, gulping breaths, Mac tried to do just that. The world stopped spinning and the pain in her head subsided enough for her to force herself onward.

"How?" she managed to ask of Amy.

"Knock it over," was the reply Mac got.

"What?!" Mac asked incredulously.

"Climb up the cliff side or something and push the damn thing over before it fires," Amy elaborated. "Crush it."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Mac said, still fighting the stabbing pain in her head.

Amy was emphatic. "You have the ability. You can get up to its weakest point, and use your enhanced strength to break it apart."

"I can't do that," Mac said, looking at her descendant in complete disbelief.

"Then we're all dead," Amy pronounced.

Mac looked back up at the Atomizer as the portions she thought looked like flower petals began to open; it was powering up, getting ready to unleash its deadly power. _Why am I hesitating?_ Mac asked herself. _I can do this._ She forced herself to her feet as the Chimera part of her came to the forefront. _Destroying things is what I'm good at._ Her eyes had once again reclaimed their wolfen amber color.

"Make sure you get Jonathan out of here," she commanded in a fierce tone. "And as soon as this abominable thing is out of commission, let Malcolm know to blow the dam. These super soldiers have to be wiped out too."

"Got it," Amy told her, picking Archer up onto her shoulders effortlessly. "Go."

Mac took off at an incredible speed. The super soldiers that were still standing after her psionic assault couldn't react fast enough. As Mac raced past them, she grabbed two of their short swords, one for each hand, and proceeded to hack through those that remained in her way. She knew each second was precious, so she went for quick kills, slicing and thrusting her way through the enemy. Her beast took no pleasure in the killing this time; in fact, it regretted each death it caused, but there were even more innocent and good people counting on her to accomplish her goal. She slashed to her right, catching a super soldier in the chest. She slashed to her left, severing a head from its shoulders. She stabbed forward, impaling another super soldier in the gut. Then she was at the base of the Atomizer once again.

She knew she would have to find a way to climb or vault up its tower, until she reached the middle section. That was where she could snap it in half and send it crashing to the ground. Mac grabbed a part of the black metal supporting structure and began to climb. After a few meters, she had to swing, like a small child on the monkey bars, to reach the next available edge to move her upward. She even ended up hooking her knees around some kind of pipe and flipping like a trapezes artist to continue her ascent in some places. Meanwhile, her head was still pounding in pain, making her occasionally lose her equilibrium and her balance. Luckily, she was able to catch herself each time and not fall to the ground that was steadily getting further and further away.

Mac somersaulted, twisted, swung, scrambled, climbed, and jumped her way to the top. She looked at times like a flying squirrel and then a mountain goat. She felt the passing by of pulse weapons fire, but she stayed ahead or behind it. The petal-like structures were almost fully open. Mac had less than a minute to tip the thing over. She redoubled her efforts. Sweat was streaming down her face, back, and front, and she had to make sure she was breathing properly. Her muscles were starting to complain against her actions. Mac ignored it all; she was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Once she was to the middle of the structure, she could reach up and grab onto one of the open petal appendages. She hung on to it and started to pump her legs, trying to get it to swing. She used as much speed as her enhanced strength would allow her. The tower bent ever so slightly. It was working, but not quickly enough. She didn't weigh enough. Mac flipped herself over to another petal structure and swung on it; she repeated the action on six of the structures. The tower was now leaning precariously to one side, but it still was not enough.

Mac could hear the hum of the power build up; she was out of time. Closing her eyes, she went through the swinging motions once again, through her sense of touch alone. She focused the rest of her mind to force the metal to bend to the point of snapping. She pictured it in her mind over and over, until it was a crystal clear image of perfect clarity. As she reached the next petal structure, the tower's metallic bonds broke apart with a loud grinding noise. It was constructed in haste, to only last for the one single moment when it was fired; it was not that sturdy of a structure to begin with.

The tower shook, as support structure after support structure cracked and busted from their seams. It swayed back and forth as if struck by an earthquake. It buckled, creaking and clattering. Sparks and showers of electricity dance from its ripped electronics. Mac jumped off just as it tottered completely over and with great speed and heavy mass, smashed into the ground far below. It shattered and splintered into many small and ineffectual pieces, taking out a fair number of Vorloren super soldiers unlucky enough to be caught beneath it.

Mac felt the ground rushing up to meet her and carefully positioned herself to land on her feet. She would use her entire body to release her impact into the ground. As she was about to hit, her psionic energy slowed her, almost by instinct, and she came back down to the dusty canyon floor cushioned in its protection. She landed with a soft thump as if she had jumped off a step only a few centimeters high. Her last thought, before the pain in her head made all thought impossible, was that she hoped Amy was able to relay to Malcolm and Travis to blow the dam. She fell to the ground, unconscious and numb.

If Mac had not passed out, she would have heard the soft boom of the exploding dam, and the rush of all the unleashed water. It roared down from the top of the canyon, filling it with water almost up to the tops of its great walls. In a matter of seconds, it would reach the bottom and sweep everything in its path away, including Mac. Then the sound of a motorcycle-type hovercraft could be heard, a lone figure struggled to control and fly the machine. It was headed in Mac's direction.

Just as the water arrived the bottom of the canyon, drowning and consuming all the Vorloren super soldiers and regular army left there, the pilot of the hovercraft reached out and plucked Mac up and out of danger. It then flew off, up and away from the canyon floor.

Mac moaned and started to come to again. "Hang on, Mac," a familiar and beloved voice reassured her, "we're almost there."

"Jonathan," she gasped at the blooded and beaten man who had just saved her life. "You came back. You came back for me."

"Of course I did, Mac, I love you too much to lose to like that," Archer told her with a tired smile. "And I owed you one," he added with a laugh.

"Where's Amy?" Mac asked as the thought occurred to her. "She isn't…"

"No, she disappeared right after she helped me regain consciousness," Archer informed her. "I think she went back to her own time. Temporal agents are funny that way. One minute there and then the next they're gone. I'm sure she got out safe and sound."

"You're badly hurt," she now accused him. His black pants and shirt were covered in his blood.

"You could say that," he said as he steered them to the top of the plateau, "but I wasn't about to let you die, Mac. You aren't supposed to be part of history yet, either. It is amazing what you can do when you have to."

Mac clung to the man she loved, holding him close. "You're my light in the darkness, Jonathan, always and forever."

"And you're my strength when I have none, always and forever," he returned.

As he set the hovercraft down, rather haphazardly, he kissed her softly. Suddenly, Mac stiffened in his arms. "What's wrong, Mac?"

"Its Romdel," she told him with raw fear in her voice. "I can hear him through the neuro implant. He is ordering the Vorloren fleet to fire on the planet! The fleet has enough fire power to destroy this canyon and everything on top of it!"

Archer switched on the comm unit on the Vorloren hovercraft, tuning to what he hoped was the Vorloren fleet frequency. "Don't do this, Romdel," he implored. "Everything you've been led to believe has been a lie. Hister wasn't your brother; he was a temporal agent using you to achieve his objective. You have to stop this!"

"I don't know what you've done to my brother, Archer, but I will avenge him and fulfill our dream to be rid of the Lasiterian scourge," came Romdel's maniacal voice over the comm system. "Fire at will, Commander!"

"NO!" Archer cried and gathered Mac to him.

Some kind of scuffle could be heard over the comm system. "Be lay that order, Commander," a new and different, but very authoritative voice commanded. "By the royal decree of the High Monarch of the Vorloren People, I order you to stand down."

"Who's that?" Mac asked, still clinging to Archer.

"I have no idea…unless…T'Pol…bless her pointed Vulcan ears!" he finally got out. "She somehow got to the High Monarch, and Phlox must have freed him from the mind control Hister had him under. Not a moment to soon, I might add."

"Captain Archer, is that you?" a very feminine and no nonsense voice demanded.

"Yes, T'Pol, it's me," the Captain said with the deepest relief he had ever felt.

"Are you all right, Captain?" T'Pol now questioned.

"I'm a little worse for wear, but I think I'll be fine now," he said with great happiness. "What happened up there?"

"I think you will be please to know that the Vorloren High Monarch physically assaulted Director Romdel," T'Pol reported.

"You mean the king punched Romdel out?" Archer asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Captain. The High Monarch 'cleaned his clock' as you humans would say. Romdel will no longer be a problem," T'Pol explained, letting a saying from Trip slip from her mouth.

Archer couldn't keep the huge grin off his face; Mac laughed out loud beside him.

"Is McKenna with you?" the Vulcan then queried.

"Yes, safe and sound," he replied. "You can come get us any time now…," Archer's voice drifted off as he lost consciousness once again.

"You'd better hurry with a medical team, T'Pol," Mac said urgently. "Your captain has lost a lot of blood."

"Acknowledged," T'Pol said. "It is agreeable to hear your voice." Then she asked more tentatively, "Is Commander Tucker all right?"

"As far as I know," Mac said honestly. "I left him with the main group of Lasiterians, helping them try and evacuate. He should have been well out of harms way."

"Thank you, Mac," T'Pol said almost tenderly, and then she was back to her Vulcan somberness. "Prepare to be retrieved."

"Aye, aye, Commander, gladly," Mac answered with a smile.

* * *

Captain Archer was still sleeping peacefully in _Enterprise's _Sickbay, while Mac sat vigilantly by his side. Phlox had sealed up all of the Archer's wounds, given him a small blood transfusion, and had sedated him to let him rest. Mac had been offered guest quarters, but she refused to leave her Jonathan's side. Phlox had wanted to check her over for any injury and check on what the Gen Virus was doing to her after her exposure to Hister's drugs. She had fought and argued with the doctor, saying it could wait. Phlox let it go for the time being, but now it was time for Mac to let him take a look at her.

"All right, Phlox," she sighed wearily as he pressed her again for an examination.

The doctor put her through his imaging chamber and got her situated on a biobed after that. He took all kinds of samples from her, but Mac didn't mind, this doctor was genuinely trying to help her, and his bedside manner was very pleasant. Phlox then told her to rest for a while, as he poured over the results from his scans and tests. Mac relented and sleep overtook her quickly.

The High Monarch had arrested Romdel soon after the king gave the order to have the Vorloren fleet stand down its attack and the director had recovered from the beating the king had given him. The once proud director was now being held in a state-of-the-art maximum security prison. Many in the Vorloren government were also taken in to custody and charged with treason in the highest degree. T'Pol had wisely counseled the High Monarch to allow all the perpetrators of the horrible war crimes to be tried in courts of law. If he wanted to win back the trust of the Vorloren people and gain the trust of the Lasiterians, the High Monarch couldn't act out of anger or vengeance. He had to show he was not going to let Romdel and his people get away with their treachery, but he had to hold himself to a higher standard in how he dealt with them; he had to set an example for the new way things were going to play out in the Vorloren System.

A cease fire had been called, halting all the fighting in the civil war. Wolachea and his council had agreed to meet with the High Monarch to have peace talks and air their grievances. It would be a slow and painful process, but each side really wanted the war to end and wanted to unify their people once again. A lot of new laws and safeguards needed to be affected so all could enjoy the rights and freedoms of the Vorloren System.

Wolachea had it in his mind that Mac could be a good go-between for both of their peoples. She was a hero in the eyes of his people, and the Vorlorens were in awe of her too. For the Vorlorens and the Lasiterians, she was also a neutral party, a human, someone that could represent Earth and help them all in their diplomacy. Mac had been stunned when Wolachea had asked her to be part of the peace talks. She hadn't told Jonathan about the request yet. She wanted to meet the High Monarch of the Vorlorens first and get an assessment of him.

Phlox woke Mac a short time later, once he was finished with his work and feeding his collection of animals. "Am I okay, Phlox? I mean I think I literally died and came back to life. That isn't exactly a normal everyday thing," she said. "Will I be able to function like a regular person?"

"You are in perfect health," Phlox told her. "It appears that the Gen Virus has mutated and mutated you along with it. It saw the chemical compounds Hister injected you with as a threat and had to adapt and change itself to survive. It is the most stubborn virus I have ever seen. It has a happy home in your body and seems to do everything it can to keep you alive so it stays alive. It has developed an almost symbiotic relationship with you."

"How does that explain all my new mind powers?" Mac wanted to know.

"Ah, that is the most interesting part, my dear McKenna," Phlox said with enthusiasm. "When your base DNA was originally designed, your brain was developed to be able to process all kinds of information from many different sources very quickly and very efficiently. It appears that the Gen Virus has merely enhanced that original function. It has accessed parts of your brain that have been dormant, and now the Gen Virus has activate them; moved you up the evolutionary ladder much sooner than is natural."

"Will I always have pain after I access these new abilities?" Mac asked curiously.

Phlox looked thoughtful for a moment, and then answered. "I'm going to say that the pain should lessen the more you use the ability and get use to using it. It is like using muscles in your body that you haven't used in a certain way before. They will be sore and hurt for a while until your body becomes accustomed to the new movement, more conditioned and trained."

"So right now my head hurts, because the parts of it I'm using haven't been used before?" Mac tried to sum up.

"Precisely," Phlox replied. "Right now according to all my data, you are just fine. You bodily systems are all in a proper balance, and you have no sign of injury or sickness."

The doors to Sickbay swooshed open and Trip walked in. He was back in uniform and even had a little grit on his face. Mac smiled; the engineer was back with his engine; his baby. "Hi ya," he greeted Phlox and Mac. "I just came to see how the Cap'n's doin."

Phlox had thoroughly checked Trip out to with endless exams and scans, but it appeared that he was fine. Mac's blood had fully integrated into his body, and with that total integration, Trip got all the benefits of the healing affects of Mac's blood. He would be healthier from now on, and fatal injuries might not be so fatal anymore for him. He might experience some hormonal spikes in his endocrine system, but nothing that was dangerous to him, just unusual.

"He is still sleeping, Commander, but you are welcome to go sit by his bedside for a little while," Phlox said kindly.

"Is Mac okay?" Trip asked when he noticed her in Sickbay-ware and laying on a biobed.

"I'm fine, Trip," she informed him, and watched the tension in his shoulders ease. "Phlox just wanted to do a check up on me. Make sure I'm tip-top."

"If you don't mind, Commander, I do need to talk to McKenna for a few more minutes, privately," Phlox said gently.

Trip took the hint. "Okay. I'll just go sit with Jon for a bit," he said and quietly walked away.

Mac looked expectantly at Phlox. "What is it, Phlox?"

Phlox got down to the point right away. "Did you know that you are pregnant, McKenna?"

"What!?" she tried not to shout. "What?" she asked again in a softer tone. She had thought her child had died when she had technically died. Had the Gen Virus extended itself to encompass and regenerate the microscopic cells of new life inside her too?

"It is barely detectable, but all the hormonal indications are there to suggest that you are pregnant," Phlox explained. "I am assuming the embryo is yours and the Captain's?"

"Of course," Mac said defensively. "He's the only man I've been with." _At least in this century, _Mac thought wryly.

"You'll want to tell him when he wakes up then," Phlox's said with a large grin. "He will be very excited. He has often expressed a wish to one day have offspring."

"No, no, no," Mac said quickly. "He can't know. It will make him sacrifice everything else to be with me and the child. He has too much to do still before that can happen. You have to swear to me, Phlox, that you won't tell him; doctor-patient confidentiality."

Phlox was speechless for a moment. "Are you positive that you do not want to tell him? I know he would want to know."

"Believe me, I want more than anything to tell him, but I know that we can't remain together, at least right now. We have things we have to accomplish separately before we can be together," Mac explained, but she knew it wasn't a very good explanation. "It will be easier on him to make the choice to separate if he doesn't know about our baby."

"I will respect your wishes, McKenna, but I will say that I think you are making a serious mistake," Phlox said it as respectfully as he could.

"I thank you for your concern, Phlox, but you'll just have to trust me on this," Mac told him softly. "It is for the greater good." For all her words, inside Mac's heart was breaking. She knew the toughest battle would be ahead, saying goodbye to her beloved Jonathan.

As Phlox walked away from Mac's bedside, and as Mac pulled the curtain to get dressed, Trip was trying to deal with what he had heard. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Mac's private consult with the doc, but he couldn't help it. _Jon said he wanted to marry her, and now she's pregnant. So what's the big problem? Why does Mac wanna keep it a secret? She and Jon are perfect for each other; they fill each others' empty spaces. This is stupid. Why does Mac think they have to separate? I'll keep this to myself for now, but someday Jon's gonna haveta know that the Archer line won't end with him._

* * *

Silik awoke to the great and terrible sound of gushing water. The cave he was lying in was halfway full of the liquid, and it was filling up more by the second. He twisted and stretched himself to be free of the bonds that he was tied with. He found his communication device and quickly called for help. He was very relieved to appear on the bridge of Kajine's ship.

"So Archer and the transgenic destroyed the Gorn's ultimate weapon and killed the meddling foul himself," Silik commented after Kajine reported to him the events he had missed while unconscious in the cave. "They also managed to get rid of the Vorloren super soldier army. Well, good for them," he bit out sarcastically. "I should have guessed that that despicable species would attempt something like this. The Gorn are far too ambitious for their own good. We may have to do something about that. Now we are left with nothing; absolutely nothing!" He then raged, switching subjects again. "How can I return to our benefactor empty-handed? We know that McKenna and Archer survived, but will they still have a child together? Everything has changed."

"If you are worried about our benefactor's continued existence, I think I have come up with a solution to that problem," Kajine offered, hoping to earn some marks with her commander.

"And?" Silik demanded impatiently.

"Didn't you say that Romdel boasted that he had taken a very large sampling of McKenna's eggs?" Kajine asked, giving Silik a meaningful look.

Silik stopped his pacing of the bridge to face his subordinate, intrigued. "Yes, I did," he commented.

"I say we take advantage of everyone's diverted attention and break into Romdel's lab, before everything is confiscated or destroy," Kajine said, her excitement building as her plan did. She came to stand very close to Silik, as she whispered, "We could steal some of those collected samples and give those to out benefactor. That way he can choose whatever DNA he wishes to fertilize as many of them as he wants to with. He could make himself into anything he desired. Think of the reward he would heap upon us for helping him become whatever he dreamed of becoming. Think of the power he would gain."

The simplicity of Kajine's plan was brilliant to Silik; it was just the turn around he needed. "Our benefactor would no longer have to be beholden to Archer for his existence. That would please him very much. I think how you think, Kajine. This may well get you a command of your own, and would put me in your debt. Something I think I can live with, my sweet." With that said, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply and soundly.

"You know I will always look out for you, my love, always," Kajine said in a breathy voice, as the kiss faded.

"And that is why we are each others perfect match," Silik replied, letting a sly smile curve his lips. "We are both resourceful in our own ways; ways that complement each other."

Kajine pulled out of his arms, going to prep a team to invade Romdel's lab. "Lucky for us, getting gain and gaining power are mutual goals. I would hate to be your rival," she said over her shoulder.

Silik looked at her, hearing the threat in her voice if he betrayed her. "Yes, lucky for us," was all he said.

TBC

**I realized I had left poor Silik tied up in a cave and hadn't gotten him out of his predicament, so I took the idea AblatedCrayon gave me a while ago and worked it in here. Anyway, what's the verdict? Please let me know what readers think about how all this played out. Just press the little button below and leave a few thoughts. Thanks!**


	41. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.**

**A/N: Here is the last chapter in my monster, novel length, **_**Enterprise**_** fanfiction story. This was such a blast to write. I can't believe I actually finished it. I've been working on the beast for about three years now. It is quite an accomplishment for little, old me. I'm thrilled to be done, but sad to see it go too. Silly, huh?**

**This last bit is just to tie up loose ends and to find a believable way to conclude things. I've tried to stay true to **_**Enterprise **_**and other **_**Trek **_**canon, but yet put my own creative twist on things at the same time. I hope it worked successfully. I had wanted to use the two songs that you will find in this chapter for a long time now. The lyrics are so moving and touching to me that I had to share them.**

**Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers. Those that have stuck with me for so long really deserve some good karma or something. :) And new people deserve some icing on their cake. :) **

**Thanks also go out to Lady Rainbow, who stuck by my side as my faithful beta reader. Even through life's turmoil, she never once let me down. My gratitude to her for making my postings possible knows no bounds. She is a rock star!!!!!**

**Please read and review. I crave your thoughts and feedback.**

**Epilogue**

Mac snuggled deep into her Jonathan's embrace as they lay in his bed in his quarters aboard _Enterprise_. The transgenic smiled to herself as she thought about how she and Jonathan had spent the better part of a day and half with each other. Neither one wanted to let the other one go, and that made one thing lead to another, time after time. It was so much more enjoyable here in the dark, enfolded within the warmth of Jonathan's body, than facing the cold and cruel reality outside.

They had ended up in their current situation after Jonathan had given her a tour of his majestic starship once he had recovered. He showed her as much as he could, but Trip had insisted on walking Mac through Engineering, and Malcolm had done the same with the Armory. Travis gave her the scoop on the bridge, and Hoshi the mess hall and rec center. Archer was at least able to lead her through the shuttle bays, cargo holds, hyponics bays, the command center that was left over from the Xindi conflict, several science stations, and crew living areas. Mac had loved every minute of it. She was sorely impressed with everything she saw.

Archer had led her to his quarters to finish off the tour. Hoshi had thoughtfully taken Porthos, the sweet beagle, while the Captain was recuperating. When they got to Archer's quarters, Mac couldn't contain herself any longer, and neither could he. They fell to the bed, lost in the passionate kisses and caresses, they let themselves indulge. No one had bothered them, except for the occasional meal left outside the door. The crew knew that the couple needed this time together.

"So what have you decided?" he suddenly asked her, breaking the peaceful silence. Deep in his heart, he knew her answer; she would agree to stay help and the Vorlorens and Lasiterians mend fences.

After Archer had given his superiors at Starfleet and the United Earth Council a thorough debriefing all about Mac, her origins, her strengths, her weaknesses, and all the details about his and the crew of the _Enterprise's_ involvement concerning the Vorloren Civil War, and the role everyone played to end it, they had all been impressed and astonished. The Council and Starfleet officials had then decided to pursue diplomatic relations with the Vorloren and the Lasiterians. If the Vorlorens made amends for all their unethical behavior and actions, it was even suggested that the Vorlorens one day be asked to join the Coalition of Planets.

The Captain then remembered what United Earth President, Nathan Samuels had done once he had met Mac.

_"I have a favor to ask of you, McKenna," he said tentatively._

_Mac's shocked expression had amused Archer at first. "What can I do for you, Mr. President?" she asked._

_"It would do me and the United Earth Council a great honor if you would accept the position of ambassador from Earth to the Vorlorens," was the bombshell Samuels dropped on her._

_"You want _me_ to be an _ambassador_? You want _me _to represent Earth to the Vorlorens?" Mac parroted in surprise, obviously not sure _what_ to say._

_Archer felt like a kite that somebody had cut the its strings off of, flapping in a strong wind, tossed to and fro. _This isn't real, _he thought. _This can't be happening. _Stunned was too weak a word for how he felt._

_"Why Mac?" he found himself asking foolishly._

_"We need good relations with a complex and advanced culture and civilization such as the Vorlorens," Samuels explained. "Both the Vorloren High Monarch and the Lasiterian chief have specifically requested that McKenna be the human that they want to deal with. They were both so adamant about it that I couldn't say no. They trust her, Jonathan; both Vorloren factions feel confident about her abilities and her character. They don't want some unknown bureaucrat coming in and ruining the good feelings they have towards Earth now. I don't want that to happen either."_

_Archer, despite his own noble sensibilities, didn't want to lose Mac that way. He tried to do just want he had wanted to avoid doing; make her seem dangerous. "But she's a century out of her element. She's still overcoming all the Eugenics programming and gene manipulation. You really want to throw this on her _now_?"_

_Mac, bless her heart, had taken no offense, understanding instantly what Archer had been trying to do. "You don't know that much about me, sir," she began. "How can you entrust me with such a task?"_

_"Captain Jonathan Archer, his crew, and both parts of the Vorloren civilization have spoken plenty about what kind of person you are, McKenna, and that is good enough for me," Samuels told her. "And I really think this would be the best thing you could do. It would give you something to do to help you adjust to your new surroundings. It will occupy your time and give you a worthy mission to accomplish."_

Archer had read between the lines in what Samuels had said. In other words, this task would be something to keep her out of trouble, out of Earth's hair, and make her useful. The Captain hated to admit it, but Samuels had been very logical about the whole deal.

Mac took her time in answering Archer's question about making a decision. She let one of her hands slide up and down his broad chest with her finger tips. "I need to stay, Jonathan. They need so much help. I'm no diplomat; I'm a soldier, but I also have a lot of Earth history to draw upon. I'm willing to try, even if I end up being no more than a comforting presence to them."

Archer felt his breath hitch; he knew this was coming, but it still tore at his heart. "And I don't suppose I can say anything to talk you out of it?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Jonathan, my sense of honor and duty won't let me do any less," she told him. "And neither would yours. I don't want to part from you, but we both know our responsibilities come first. Your superiors already have important assignments lined up for you. You're not done exploring the unknown yet."

"Why can't you come with me?" he said with a shaky voice.

"I owe these people, Jonathan, you know that," Mac was firm, but gentle as she said this. "Your superiors are letting me do this because it will make me less of a problem to them and make me useful at the same time. They wouldn't trust me to be part of their flagship's crew, and I won't go back to Earth to be a guinea pig either."

Archer flipped them over so he was on top of her. "Do you still want to be my wife, or have you changed your mind about that too?" He sounded so hurt. Mac saw the glistening of tears in his eyes. She could feel his emotional turmoil, and it matched her own.

"If it were possible I would marry you in a heart beat, Jonathan," she said, putting her arms around his neck and running her hand up through his hair. "Don't have any doubts about that, but those you answer to would panic. I'm not saying that I won't marry you, I'm just saying we might have to wait a little while."

"What if we could get away with it without anybody knowing?" he impetuously asked.

Mac looked at him and smiled. "I thought about that too. If it means that much to you, to be man and wife now, we could ask Wolachea to perform some kind of official ceremony in secret. He _is_ the chief of the Lasiterians, and a spiritual leader among them as well. We could trust him to keep it between just us."

"Let's do it then," he said enthusiastically. "Marry me, Mac."

She paused a minute before she spoke again. "I love you, Jonathan, and I will do anything you ask of me. If you want me to stay with you I will. I'll throw caution to the wind and not deny you anything. You are the most important thing to me in this entire universe. I'll do whatever you want. I love you that much." She kissed him, long, hard, and deep.

Archer broke it finally, needing to breathe. He was holding her tightly, needing to feel all of her. He wanted nothing more then to marry Mac, making her his wife and have her travel to distant stars with him, but he, the duty bound man he was, realized how much of a dream that was. Just to know Mac would give up everything for him, to follow him, to be with him filled him with such warmth. He was ready to do the same for her.

"What if I offered to stay here with you?" he then asked, catching her off guard.

"I couldn't ask you to give up your ship and crew for me, Jonathan. I don't want to stop you from fulfilling your destiny," she gasped. "I love you all the more for offering, but I couldn't live with myself by asking you to chose between me and your career. I'd go with you before I let you do that."

"I know you would, Mac," he said quietly. "That's why I can't ask you to. I can't interfere with your destiny like that either. Maybe you're right about waiting. We both have important and crucial roles to play separate from each other, no matter how badly we long to be together. It kills me to admit this, but I would forever feel guilty leaving my duty as a captain behind. And I would feel guilty if I asked you to leave your duty behind as a peacemaker. Shit," he cursed.

"We could still marry in secret, to bind us tight together while we're apart," she said hurriedly. "Although, if you're superiors found out…"

"It might be the end of my career," he finished for her. "Do you think we can wait? I don't really want to but, but for the greater good it seems like we must."

Mac's cheeks were wet with her tears. "That was what Future Guy told me that upset me so; that I would have to choose to leave you. He knew the things both of us were responsible for to bring about in the future, and they were not to be done together. We can't be selfish and let the timeline fall apart because all we think about is ourselves and how we feel."

"Are you sure about this?" Archer asked tentatively. "Do you think you'll be okay with out me around to help you curb your beast?'

"No," Mac said with a sigh, "I'm not sure about any of this. I think the peace I've made with myself will be lasting, if I'm vigilant. It _is_ sort of a worry to not have you around incase I lost control again, but my beast has changed so I should be okay. Let's just promise to find each other again no matter how much time goes by. We_ will_ be together again."

"I promise you, Mac, I will be with you again, however long it takes," Archer vowed.

"Something tells me that if we have faith and are patient, we'll get what we want," she said.

"Yeah, Amy was proof to us that we do someday get to have a family," Archer said wistfully.

"Well, then, if we have to part for time, I suggest we make the most of the time we have right now," she then said, turning seductive, and kissed him again heatedly.

"That's a wonderful idea," he replied between kisses, and then gave himself over to the pleasurable feelings she always knew how to elicit out of him.

* * *

Two weeks went by before Archer and his crew were called upon to move on to their next mission. He and Mac spent as much time together as they could without letting it interfere with their obligations toward the Vorlorens, Lasiterians, and the _Enterprise_ crew. Today was the day _Enterprise_ was to leave orbit, and Archer was heartsick; he didn't want to say goodbye to the woman he loved. It was the hardest thing he had ever done: harder than even saving Earth from the Sphere Builders, and certainly harder than stopping the Terra Prime terrorists from destroying Starfleet Command. He almost didn't think he could do it.

Archer had watched the High Monarch of the Vorlorens bestow Mac with a beautiful gift to thank her for all her heroics both physically and spiritually to help end their civil war with the Lasiterians. It was a striking turquoise and silver crystal necklace, in a coiled and twisted shape, like a corkscrew or ringlet of hair, but not wound as tightly. The High Monarch said it had come from material from a comet that had passed by Vorlora Prime centuries ago. Bits and pieces of it had fallen through the planet's atmosphere to the ground below. The Vorlorens held it as a sacred gift from the universe. The material sparkled and reflected light much like a diamond from Earth did, but much more intensely. Archer thought it looked dazzling around Mac's neck; the perfect addition to his perfect princess.

Wolachea seemed to sense some of the Captain's melancholy at the gratitude ceremony the Vorlorens and their Lasiterian brothers were throwing for the _Enterprise_ captain and crew. He knew of the loving relationship Archer had with the Dark Guardian, and that it was because of the Captain that she had overcome the darkness within her and had chosen to walk in the light again. It filled him with great sadness to have to see them part.

"Captain Archer," Wolachea said to Archer, pulling him to the side for a moment as the _Enterprise _senior officers were preparing to leave Vorlora Prime.

"Yes, Grand Chief," Archer replied with forced cheerfulness.

"If at any time you fill the desire to speak or communicate with McKenna, please take this," and he handed Archer a small round orb. "It is a prototype, long range communications device. I have given one to McKenna as well. It might or might not work to help the two of you keep in touch from time to time. All you have to do is rub your hand over it and it will activate. It is attuned to the one McKenna has. It is the least I can do for you, who has done so much for my people, and to thank you for letting McKenna remain here to help us rebuild our society."

Archer was so touched that he couldn't find any words; he was speechless. Wolachea could see the total gratitude in the Captain's eyes, however, and simply patted him on the back. "You are a noble man, Jonathan Archer. You will have a special place in my people's hearts and memories. May the Great Spirit bless you and guide you on your way." He then quietly walked away. Archer had to bite his lip to keep the tears at bay.

He and Mac had already said their goodbyes; she couldn't watch him fly away in the shuttlepod. Archer felt like he was leaving apart of himself behind on this planet, so far away from Earth. Who would have thought that he'd find his soulmate way out here? It was so tragically ironic. He boarded the shuttlepod with leaden feet. Trip sat next to him on a back bench and silently put an arm around his best friend. It was such a kind gesture that Archer did start to weep, but without making a sound and he thought Trip was crying too.

Once back aboard _Enterprise_, Archer tried to fall back into his old routine and ordered them to break orbit and leave the Vorloren System. He then excused himself to go to his ready room; he needed to be alone. Hoshi watched the misery of her captain and decided it was now time to give him her gift — the gift she had helped Mac make for Archer. She got up and followed the Captain off the bridge and to his ready room.

Malcolm smiled at her warmly from his tactical post, for he was in on her little plan. With a slight nod, he encouraged her to go on with it. Hoshi felt a surge of courage and strength pass through her at watching Malcolm's little gestures. _He knows me so well, _she thought to herself. _No wonder that sweet Lasiterian couple thought that we were married. We act like it. What does that say about us? Maybe I should tell Malcolm how I feel. At least the Captain knows that Mac loves him and vice versa. If Malcolm and I never saw each other again, I don't think I could bear him not knowing what he has come to mean to me. _She decided she would have to find a time and place to address this new complication, once things settled down again.

Then she caught Trip's eye at his engineering station, and he looked almost as bleak as the Captain did. Since he had returned from his time away from _Enterprise_, Trip had been spending a lot time with T'Pol; reading the Vulcan Kir'Shara, going back to practicing Vulcan neuropressure, going to movie night together, working on ways to improve the warp engine's functionality, taking walks in the hyponics bays, playing Vulcan chess and Chinese checkers, and so on. Hoshi hoped they were helping each other through the events of the past few weeks. It was nice to see them together again, after the terrible incident with Terra Prime and the hybrid child the terrorist organization had created appeared to have pushed them apart.

Hoshi signaled for Trip to join her, for this gift for the Captain sort of concerned him too. Trip gave her a curious look, but obediently followed Hoshi to the Captain's ready room.

"What gives, Hosh?" he asked her in a whisper as they reached the ready room door.

"Mac left the captain a small memento," she explained, "but I think you should see it too." With that she rang the chime on the Captain's door.

"Come in," Archer's muffled reply came through the closed door.

Hoshi greeted the Captain warmly and told him that Mac had left something in her care for him. She then pulled out a small data disk and handed it to Archer. "She had me help her record a short message to you, Captain, and two songs she thought you'd appreciate to remember her by."

Archer felt a lump form in his throat. _Oh to have Mac's sweet, angelic voice recorded. It will either torture me or comfort me, _he thought to himself. "Thanks, Hoshi." He then looked at Trip as if to ask what he wanted.

Hoshi caught the look and answered the silent question. "She mentions Commander Tucker briefly in an introduction to one of her songs. I thought if you didn't mind, he could listen to it with you."

"Thanks Hoshi," Trip said, grateful for Hoshi's thoughtfulness. "Is that all right, sir? If you'd rather listen to alone, I'll understand."

"I think I'd prefer to have you here, Trip," Archer confessed. "You helped her become the woman she is just as much as I did."

"I'll leave you two to yourselves then," Hoshi said as she turned to leave. "And I'll make sure that you aren't disturbed until you want to be."

"You're an angel, Hoshi Sato," Archer told her affectionately. "Never forget that."

Hoshi blushed at the complement and bowed slightly. She then left and resumed her station on the bridge, receiving another warm smile and wink from Malcolm. She was happy to know that she had come through for her captain. She hated to see him hurting so, but she knew he had made the right decision. It just confirmed for her what a selfless man he was, for he put the benefit of others before himself. He was the angel here, not her.

Archer and Trip were staring at the small viewing screening on the ready room desk. The data disk was paused on Mac, sitting among some of the flowers in one of the hydroponics bays. She was dressed in a Lasiterian dark brown and leather skirt with a matching short-sleeved top. Her feet were covered in soft looking knee-high brown boots. She was wearing her hair down and very curly. Her new accessory shone brilliantly around her neck down to her shapely curves. The Captain was gripping his desk's edge very tightly with both hands. Trip had drawn up another chair and had crammed himself in behind the desk next to his friend.

"You ready for this?" Archer asked of Trip.

"If you are," Trip replied, searching his friends face; Archer looked tired and pale.

"Okay, then, here we go," Archer said pushing the start button, and the video playback began.

_"This is try number seven for Hoshi and me," Mac began. "I'm going to make it through my message this time, Jonathan. I promise. _

_"I couldn't leave you without leaving something of myself behind. I know it's silly, but I just wanted share some of myself with you. I wanted you to hear the words 'I love you' out of my mouth every day if you need to hear them. I stole some of your personal logs so I'd have recordings of you and your voice._

_"Hoshi has been a doll to help me film this, and her never unending patience with me as I struggle through should earn her a promotion at the very least…" _Archer and Trip chuckled at the suggestion. Archer didn't think Mac's idea was silly at all; he thought it was wonderful. He did want to hear "I love you" from her every day. He smiled to himself at the fact that she had needed something to remind her of him too.

_"I didn't have time to come up with any original songs, but as I searched through _Enterprise's _database, I found two songs that fit how I feel now about you and my life in general. You know how I am about music. They are heartfelt songs, but a little somber. They reflect the joy and sadness I feel. And most importantly, they express how I feel about you, dear Jonathan._

_"The first song I chose to sing for you was actually inspired by our good friend Trip…" _Archer couldn't help but smile at his chief engineer. _"…for he truly did help save my soul through his amazing grace, as did you, my love. I found music and lyrics from the early twenty-first century by a musician named Neil Diamond that says exactly what is in my heart about both you and Trip, through in totally different ways._

_"One of your crewmen loaned me a real guitar, so I'll play it as accompaniment to my singing. I hope I can make it through with out my voice cracking…" _here Mac laughed nervously. Then she began to strum and pick out a lulling and moving melody. Trip gasped as he caught the amazing grace reference. Mac started out simply with the soft tune.

"_Pretty amazing grace is what you showed me _

_Pretty amazing grace is who you are_

_I was an empty vesse1_

_You filled me up inside_

_And with amazing grace restored my pride_

"_Pretty amazing grace is how you saved me_

_And with amazing grace reclaimed my heart_

(Mac picked up speed and volume making the next part stronger)

"_Love in the midst of chaos_

_Calm in the heat of war_

(She then softened again)

"_Showed with amazing grace what love was for_

(She again intensified the volume and beat)

"_You forgave my insensitivity_

_And my attempt to then mislead you_

_You stood beside a wretch like me_

(Mac then softened things again)

"_Your pretty amazing grace...was all I needed_

"_Stumbled inside the door way of your chapel_

_Humbled and awed by everything I found_

(Her voice rose once more)

"_Beauty and love surround me_

_Freed me from what I feared_

(Then she quieted again, looking right at the digital recorder)

"_Asked for amazing grace and you appeared_

(Mac increase the beat and again brought more volume her singing)

"_You overcame my loss of hope and faith _

_Gave me a truth I could believe in_

_You led me to a higher place_

(The tone soften here)

"_Showed your amazing grace_

_When grace was what I needed_

"_Look in a mirror I see your reflection_

_Open a book you live on every page_

_I fall and you're there to lift me_

_You share every road I climb_

_And with amazing grace you ease my mind_

(She brought up the intensity once more)

"_Came to you with empty pockets first_

_When I returned I was a rich man_

_Didn't believe love would quench my thirst_

(She become more gentle here)

"_But with amazing grace…you showed me that it can_

"_In your amazing grace I had a vision_

_From that amazing place I came to be_

_Into the night I wandered, and wandering aimlessly_

_Found your amazing grace to comfort me_

(Mac played a short bridge melody, before going into the next part of the song)

"_Pretty amazing… _(She repeated this seven more times, each time with more emotion and volume)

_"You overcame my loss of hope and faith_

_Gave me a truth I could believe in_

_You led me to that higher place_

(Mac drew out the words in the next to lines for dramatic effect)

"_Showed me that love and truth and hope and grace_

_Were all I needed."__1_

Mac's voice was hypnotic and powerful, leaving both Archer and Trip in tears. She ended the song with strong, short strokes on the guitar. The two men understood exactly the significance of the song's meaning and message. She was thanking them both for saving her; mind, body, and soul. And they had saved her not through big, momentous deeds, but through small and simple ones. By simply being who they were and being true to their values and beliefs, they had given Mac what she needed to become whole.

"Holy cow," Trip commented in a whisper. Archer remained silent, lost in his thoughts.

"_Okay, I hope that turned out all right," _Mac said from the viewing screen. _"Now I have a tune to help me say goodbye; I'm terrible at saying it, so I'm going to sing it. The song is a sweet, little Irish folksong I heard from my father once. It is about an Irish maiden letting her true love go out to sea and sail away to fulfill his duties as a sailor. I figured it fit since I have to let you sail away from me, Jonathan." _Mac voice cracked then, and she had to wipe at her eyes.

Archer felt Trip's hand on his shoulder in comfort. He put his own hand on top of Trip's and held on to his best friend for dear life. Archer then turned his attention back to his beloved princess. Mac had started strumming the guitar again in a soft, romantic melody. Then she began to sing, like an angel, and his focus was for her and her alone.

"_Take the wave now and know that you're free_

_Turn your back on the land, face the sea_

_Face the wind now, so wild and so strong_

_When you think of me, wave to me and send me a song_

"_Don't look back when you reach the new shore_

_Don't forget what you're leaving me for_

_Don't forget when you're missing me so_

_Love must never hold, never hold tight, but let go_

"_Oh, the nights will be long when I'm not in your arms_

_But I'll be in this song that you sing to me_

_Across the sea, somehow, someday_

_You'll be far away, so far from me_

_And maybe one day I will follow you in all you do_

'_Til then, send me a song_

"_When the sun sets the water on fire_

_When the wind swells the sails ever higher_

_Let the call of the bird on the wind_

_Calm your sadness and loneliness_

(Mac drew out the words in the next part, increasing her volume and intensity)

"_And then start to sing to me_

_I will sing to you_

(Then she softened once more)

"_If you promise to send me a song_

"_I walk by the shore and I hear_

_Hear your song come so faint and so clear_

_And I catch it, a breath on the wind_

_And I smile and sing you a song_

(Mac's singing grew powerful and full of emotion)

"_I will send you a song_

_I will sing you a song_

_I will sing to you_

_If you promise to send me a song."__2_

"Oh Mac," Archer said after he gulped.

"_I hope that sounded good," _Mac said from the recording. _"I'll hear you, Jonathan, if you'll sing to me. I'm counting on the fact, that even far away, I'll be able to still feel you. Try and take time to feel for me too. I love you so very much. And I will see you again; I know it. Be careful and get to work." _She laughed slightly at her last statement, and that is where the recording ended.

Trip had been sitting there debating with himself if he should tell Mac's secret to Archer or not. In the Captain's state of mind it might sending him running right back after Mac, or it could help ease his emotional upheaval. Something prompted Trip to hold off, telling him the time wasn't right. Trip decided to listen; he'd continue to remain silent, but for how long he would, he wasn't certain.

"You gonna be okay, Jon?" Trip asked of his friend, who was still clutching his hand.

"Not for a while," Archer answered honestly, "but this too shall pass. I _will _see my Mac again, I feel it in my gut, and my heart knows it. And Mac's right; I can still feel her right here." He let go of his vice-like grip on Trip's hand and place his own in the center of his chest. "She isn't that far away."

"Your separation won't last forever, Jon. I'm certain of that too," Trip said with conviction. "She'll get the Vorlorens and Lasiterians on the right track, and you'll finish bein' a cap'n of a starship soon enough. We're all better people for knowin' her, ya know?" And what Trip didn't realize at the time, but he would come to later on down the road, that Mac's selfless blood donation would save his life more times that he could count.

"There's no doubt about that," Archer agreed. "I know that I'm forever changed. I'm glad that we've stopped a war and save the timeline. I just hope we're through with all that."

"Yeah, I think I'm ready to get back to our mission of exploring strange new worlds," Trip commented.

"That seems to be the job I was born to do," was Archer's response, "so I'd better finish it." In the back of his mind, he knew he wanted to finish it because then he could be with the woman who had stolen his heart. Returning to her would be the greatest achievement he could think of.

-Fin-

**Well, that's all folks. Finally, right? LOL!!! Please let me know what you think of my ending. Even if you've been reading and haven't left a review before, just drop me a short line to tell me your overall impressions of my story. Thanks!!!! Fanfiction readers rock!!!!**

**Oh, by the way, at the beginning I talked about how I couldn't stand how they ended the series, especially with what happened to Trip, remember? Well, let me know what you think of my solution to that little problem. If you caught it. :)**

1 This song is called "Pretty Amazing Grace" and comes from Neil Diamond's _Home After Dark_ album and full rights go to Mr. Diamond and Columbia Records, 2008. No copy right infringement is meant by its use in this story. It just was absolutely perfect for the story's ending; a tie-in to Trip's use of the hymn _Amazing Grace_ earlier in the story.

2 This song is called "Send Me A Song" and comes from first the Celtic Woman album titled simply _Celtic Woman_. Full rights go to David Downes and EMI-Manhattan 2005. No copy right infringement is meant by using this song in my story. It just fit so right.


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